Getting Away With Murder
by wolf's paradise
Summary: "Grimmjow…" Ichigo moaned, eyes wide and hands tightening on his back. Grimmjow clenched his teeth. They had taken Ichigo away from him, all because they wanted him to be the Sexta again. Well, then. He wouldn't disappoint. GrimmIchi yaoi
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This was inspired by many songs, actually, but they are all by Three Days Grace, even if this _is_ named after a Papa Roach song. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to do something like this but for some reason I was feeling depressed today and this just would not leave my head. I wanted something awesome, and cool and other things that just made Grimmjow scream badass, so here's this piece, but I don't think it worked out too well. I managed to finish it in one night and make it _only_ 13 pages, which is something for me.

**Warning:** Swearing, violence, yaoi.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Bleach, Grimmjow would be back already.

**Summary:** "Grimmjow…" Ichigo moaned, hands tightening on his back. Grimmjow clenched his teeth. They had taken Ichigo away from him, all because they wanted him to be the Sexta again. Well, then. He wouldn't disappoint.

Getting Away With Murder

He sat on a lonely windowsill, cigarette smoke curling from the butt of the stick his lips held in place. The sun was just rising, and while the chill was nipping at his skin, he didn't feel it.

"_Ne, Grimmjow?"_

"_Hn," he grunted, but the one next to him knew what he meant._

"_Why did you do it?"_

_He didn't like that question. The one next to him always asked it, but trusted him, too, and he should, because Grimmjow would never hurt him._

"_Grimm?"_

"_You won't like the answer."_

_He didn't like the sound of his voice, but he seemed to do a lot of unusual things around him. And go figure. The man was the strangest one he had met, but that was a good thing. His hair was an orange so bright it could match the sun. His eyes were a deep brown, and did things to Grimmjow that he didn't understand, not to mention what those miles and miles of honey skin did to his libido._

_Speaking of which…_

_The orange haired man chuckled. "Didn't think you were a teenager anymore, Grimm. Nice wet dream?" They were lying in bed, covers pulled over them as Grimmjow's chest met the man's back._

_But Grimmjow wasn't in the mood to be teased. He just pressed closer. The orange haired man sighed._

"_I don't care, Grimmjow. I don't care if I won't _like_ the answer. I want to know."_

"_I didn't like what I did."_

_This time, the man snarled. "Bullshit. Tell me something I don't like, but don't you _dare_ fucking lie to me, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques." At that, he turned around, facing Grimmjow, and he grimaced. Once, he had teased the man about his name, but now he knew for certain that his name fit him._

_It wasn't because he blushed, and his face was as red as a strawberry – a secondary meaning to his name. No, it was because he was fierce, protective, just like his title. Kurosaki Ichigo wasn't a name that Grimmjow would have thought fit anyone, but it just _fit_ him._

_Grimmjow sat up. "Fine," he growled. "They asked me to be their hit man. I was strong. I liked to fight."_

"_Sexta."_

_A shiver raced up his spine, and his fingers twitched, adrenaline pumping. No._

"_Don't call me that," he said quietly._

"_That was your name, though."_

_Grimmjow looked Ichigo right in the eye. "My name never meant anything there. They never called us by name – hell they never knew our names. They only called us by our designated number, and in a language we had to learn in a couple months." His eyes hardened. "I may have liked the job, but I never liked it there. Killing was only a high that ended as soon as one of those other workers showed."_

_Ichigo looked down. "How did you survive?"_

_Quiet – until Grimmjow sighed. "You saved me, remember?"_

"_Did you know who was behind everything?" Ichigo asked, his smile from the previous statement faltering._

"_Yes," Grimmjow whispered._

_A tan hand balled into a fist. "They approached you yesterday…didn't they?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Why?"_

_Grimmjow hesitated. "They want me back."_

_For the fist time, there seemed to be worry, actual _fear_, in Ichigo's eyes. "Are you… Are you leaving?"_

_His voice was so quiet, but Grimmjow rolled over, straddling the orange haired man's hips. "You think I'd leave you? For _them_?" he almost spat._

_Ichigo winced at Grimmjow's tone but his cheeks reddened and his hand cupped Grimmjow's cheek. "You'd stay for me."_

"_Obviously."_

_The orange haired man smirked. "How did this start again?"_

_A lecherous grin spread across Grimmjow's lips. "I'll help you remember…"_

He blinked, looking at the still figure sleeping peacefully in his large bed. A calloused hand rubbed across his face. That had happened not two days ago, and they were getting anxious. He had already told them no, but it seemed that "no" was not an option. They wanted him back, but they didn't understand.

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was no longer Sexta.

That was something he didn't want to become again – or revert to, whichever was correct. He had been Sexta, the master of destruction, until Ichigo had waltzed in and practically beat it out of him. Quite literally, too.

He chuckled quietly when Ichigo rolled over, arms spreading out, chest slowly rising and falling with his even breaths.

How had it started again?

"_Che, you're late," Kenpachi growled. Grimmjow waved him away._

"_Yeah, yeah. Two minutes. It won't kill ya."_

_Kenpachi was not pleased, but Grimmjow knew it wasn't a big deal. Kenpachi was tough, what with his tall stature and pounds of muscles and spiked hair, but he had a big soft spot for children, especially his adopted daughter Yachiru. She was an endless ball of pink-haired energy, and even Grimmjow couldn't help but smile when she came around._

"_I got a newbie comin' in today," Kenpachi started, and Grimmjow looked at him, clocking in and grabbing his gear from one of the open lockers to his right. "He ain't never worked at a lumberyard before, but he mentioned he's a hard worker. I tried to dismiss him when he applied, but fucking Yachiru butted in and told me to hire him."_

"_And you couldn't say no," Grimmjow grinned. Kenpachi scowled and shrugged, but Grimmjow knew the large man could hardly deny that girl anything._

"_Whatever. Just run into town and get him some gear. He ain't got any, so I gotta foot the bill. Still, it'll come outta his paycheck." And not a second later, a wicked grin spread that man's lips to his ear._

_Grimmjow shook his head. "You ass."_

_Kenpachi laughed heartily. "Got that right, kid."_

"_Che," Grimmjow growled. He hated being called a kid, but Kenpachi had helped him a lot in the past, so he was entitled to some privileges, Grimmjow supposed._

_Still, when he saw the kid coming down the walkway, he groaned. Just what the lumberyard needed – another pussy. Luppi was bad enough, as were the other guys that had tried to work here, but if the guy wasn't cut out for it, at least he could work a day and realize he couldn't do it. Grimmjow just didn't want to be here when shit hit the fan._

_Though he couldn't believe the kid had orange hair. _Orange_ hair. Like safety cone orange. Like pictures of the sun orange._

_The kid was staring at him, surprised, and Grimmjow growled, though not without knowing why the kid's behavior was strange. It wasn't everyday you met someone with blue hair, and Grimmjow just happened to have a head full of it. His eyes were a bright blue, too, and were accompanied by his usual scowl._

"_Stop fucking staring, kid," he growled, a little surprised when the kid growled back, brown eyes flashing._

"_Don't call me kid."_

_Grimmjow ignored him. "I gotta take you into town in the truck." He gave him a once-over, a haughty look in his eyes as the kid crossed his arms defensively. "Che, cause you sure as hell ain't workin' in this place in _that_."_

_He looked embarrassed, but Grimmjow just grabbed his arm, spun him towards the company truck, and waited for him to follow. The kid did, albeit slowly, and once in the truck, Grimmjow asked his name._

"_Kurosaki Ichigo."_

_He let out a boom of laughter. "No fucking way. Your parents named you after a fruit?"_

"_No, they didn't." Ichigo was livid, and Grimmjow smirked. He definitely liked this kid's attitude._

A small grin tugged at Grimmjow's lips. Ichigo hadn't complained one bit when they were working at the lumberyard. And he had done the work. Though only five foot nine or ten, he was surprisingly strong, but he hadn't gotten along with Grimmjow at all. They had wrestled, bickered with each other, until one day, after a particularly vicious wrestling match, Ichigo was lying breathless underneath Grimmjow's large body.

Suddenly, Ichigo leaned up and kissed him.

It wasn't until a second later, when Ichigo started to pull away, that Grimmjow grabbed the back of his head and kissed him back.

For two months they explored whatever was going on between them, and Grimmjow was apprehensive. He liked the kid too much, and he wondered if it was illegal. The kid was twenty-one and he was twenty-five, but he felt like people would consider him a fucking pedophile, even if it was only a four year difference.

Then, that night, it happened, and it was forever ingrained in his memory.

"_Fuck," he cursed. He knew he would find out. He _knew_ it._

_Kenpachi didn't make him work nights. Grimmjow's original excuse had been his other job, which was completely true, but Ichigo had seen him. Ichigo, the one that had begun to show him a different side of life, had seen him tap a gun to a guy's head and blow his brains out. He would never,_ ever_ forget Ichigo's face in that moment._

_He had moved away, slipped into the night, and he could hear Ichigo after him. Suddenly, a small but hard body smashed into his, and he was rolling in an instant, snatching the gun from his boot and pointing both of his pieces at the perpetrator. His eyes widened when he saw Ichigo._

_The kid's face was utterly livid albeit breathless. "You're it. I can't believe it." Ichigo paused, still breathing hard, and the guns that had been in Grimmjow's hands had long since been lowered. "_You're_ the Sexta," he growled._

"_Yes," Grimmjow said matter-of-factly._

"_Goddammit," Ichigo laughed, but there was hysteria to the normally deep tones. "You don't even fucking deny it."_

"_Do you want me to?"_

_Ichigo looked surprised at his calm tone. Even Grimmjow was surprised at how his voice sounded._

_But Ichigo was shaking his head, hands pulling at his hair. "Dammit, I don't fucking know." He looked up, his eyes tortured and so, so confused. "You… You kill people!"_

_Now he was getting a little angry. "Yeah, so what, Ichigo? It's my night job."_

"_What the fuck! Why are you even doing this?"_

"_Why do you do something for someone who saves you?"_

"_Because they gave you your life back!"_

_Grimmjow remained silent, letting Ichigo's words sink into his own head, and Ichigo just moaned, turning away._

He sighed, rubbing his forehead. They had argued for a long time after that, but Ichigo had given him an ultimatum – continue working for whoever he worked for and never, _ever_ see Ichigo again, or stop working for that man and live with him.

It had taken him a week, but he had severed all ties with the man he worked for, and grabbed Ichigo, both disappearing off of the face of the earth. He remembered the look of disappointment on Ichigo's face when he had walked away that night of his ultimatum, but he also remembered his face when he had appeared again.

_When Ichigo opened that door, Grimmjow felt his heart clench. Those brown eyes were wide, red, and puffy, no doubt from crying. He started shaking, but his eyes were still wide, still unbelieving._

_Grimmjow shifted. "Ichi…" he started, reverting to that old nickname he had called him so many times. "I had to take care of—" Before he could finish, a sharp punch cracked against his jaw, and he stepped back, thrown off balance. "Shit!" he yelled, hand coming up and testing the corner of his mouth, coming back slightly red._

_Ichigo was angry. "I told you not to come back! I told you to never see me again!" he shouted, coming out of the house and getting close to Grimmjow's face, and the blue haired man saw the tears streaking down Ichigo's cheeks. "You chose them, and I told you that if you did you couldn't see me anymore!"_

_Normally, Grimmjow would have sneered at anyone that dared to cry in front of him, but this was Ichigo. Ichigo was different. He felt differently about Ichigo. Ichigo was Ichigo._

_So, Grimmjow cut him off, grabbing Ichigo's t-shirt and smashing his lips to the other man's trembling ones. Ichigo struggled at first, hands fisting in Grimmjow's jacket, but when Grimmjow let up, slowed the intensity, kissed him gently, a small whimper escaped Ichigo's throat as he gave in. His hands relaxed, flattening so the palms ran up and down Grimmjow's torso as he pushed back, making Grimmjow work for his dominance._

_The blue haired man didn't mind one bit. It was exciting to find someone that would challenge him back, but after a moment or two, he pulled away. "Never," he whispered, watching Ichigo's glazed eyes turn confused. "I would never choose them over you."_

_Ichigo's breath hitched, but Grimmjow continued._

"_There were things I had to take care of, to make sure I could do this, you idiot. Kenpachi's got some land across town near his lumberyard; there's an old cabin. He said I could use it. 'Cause I gotta lay low for a while."_

"_Then what…" Ichigo trailed off, his head cocking in even more confusion._

"_Do you want to come with me?" That was the million-dollar question. Grimmjow refused to make Ichigo do something he didn't want to do, and he hoped that by giving Ichigo a choice, he would realize it. He just hoped he wasn't too late._

"_What the fuck are you talking about?" Ichigo murmured, and Grimmjow couldn't discern his expression. Ichigo scoffed. "Of course I'm coming with you."_

_Grimmjow couldn't help the smile on his face as he leaned in, catching Ichigo in another bruising kiss._

There was a slight murmur, and a groan, and Grimmjow glanced over, watching Ichigo's eyes flutter open. For a moment, he looked at a loss of where he was, but when he tilted his head toward the window, the widest grin spread across his face. A small smile lit Grimmjow's lips as his chest tightened.

Ichigo immediately knew something was wrong. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Grimm, what's wrong?" His voice was so concerned. Grimmjow didn't deserve him.

At his silence, Ichigo cursed. "They've been getting more persistent."

"Yeah," Grimmjow whispered, looking out the window again.

"Dammit," Ichigo growled. "How? How did they find out? You disappeared! You disappeared – _we_ disappeared – _fuck_. It's been five years!"

"I know."

"God, Grimmjow, stop being so calm about this!" Ichigo looked scared.

Grimmjow sighed, closing the window and sitting on the bed. It was strange for him to be calm about this, and though it scared the hell out of him, he knew that deep down it was the Sexta. He had lived with that persona for so long that its qualities were ingrained into his memory.

He shrugged. "I can't help it."

Ichigo ran a hand nervously through his hair. "Sexta," he whispered. Grimmjow nodded, ignoring the excitement and adrenaline that flew through his veins at the mention of his old name.

The gang – or he supposed that's what it could be called – had initiated Grimmjow when he was fourteen. They had taught him the trade, how to deal, how measure, how to blow – even let him do a few hits – but never let him get addicted. They made sure he knew he was dead if he ever got addicted. They taught him how to shoot, how to fight, how to disappear.

He had been an orphan, left on the streets with only his name and the clothes on his back to call his own. They had taken him in, given him a life, so he had done what they wanted.

But then he had met Ichigo…

And everything changed.

Ichigo showed him things that he had never even imagined. His life had always been empty, devoid of emotion save for the high he got when he was fighting someone good, when he was challenged, and when he realized he held the entirety of someone's life in one, small, trigger finger.

True, he talked to Kenpachi and a few others, but the other things in life – like purpose, had all lacked meaning until Ichigo had started to make him feel like he was _alive_.

He didn't want to become Sexta again.

Sexta represented who he was in the past – a hollow man that killed without question, without remorse. He didn't want to become that because Ichigo wouldn't let him, but also because he _didn't want to_. It wasn't like before. He was taking lives. He knew that now. But it was just… He wasn't even sure how explain it.

Ichigo sighed softly. "Come here, Grimmjow."

The blue haired man raised an eyebrow. Ichigo just smiled.

"Weren't you gonna do something before you fell asleep last night?"

Grimmjow growled. "I did not fall asleep."

Brown eyes sparkled. "Sure."

A small chuckle rumbled in Grimmjow's chest as he leaned over Ichigo, watching as the sheer lust in his eyes caused Ichigo's gaze to shift, to darken with want. His mouth caught Ichigo's quickly, skillfully caressing his lips, the tip of Ichigo's tongue, then swirling slowly inside his mouth.

His hands fumbled with the lube, but he managed to squirt a bit onto one hand, spreading feather-light touches with the other along his lover's growing erection. Ichigo hummed, arching slightly, tearing his mouth away when Grimmjow quickly inserted a finger. His head fell back, eyes open and staring as a loud gasp took his breath away.

The blue haired man smiled, adding a second finger, entranced as he watched Ichigo groan, one hand fisting the sheets and the other scratching the life out of Grimmjow's arm.

"Oh… Oh God, Grimm," he moaned, gasping again when Grimmjow crooked a finger, searching for the spot that made Ichigo writhe.

He was so hard, but he didn't care. He would be inside Ichigo soon enough, if the orange haired man didn't make him lose control first, what with all the noises he was making.

"Shit!" Ichigo yelped, and Grimmjow smiled, letting his head fall, watching his fingers move slowly – in and out, in and out.

"Grimmjow, I swear to fucking _god_," Ichigo panted, another expletive falling from his lips. "Inside, right now."

"No."

"Dammit…_shit!_… Just please, I… I need you."

"I want to hear it." He never got tired of hearing it. It was the air he breathed, the thing that kept him together, that kept him alive. He was slowly losing control, nearing the point of patience failing him, because god_damn_ did he want to be inside that tight heat. Right. Now.

"But I…"

"Ichi."

"Grimm, I…" Ichigo was writhing, trying to achieve release as Grimmjow's fingers pumped ever so slowly. With effort, he sat up, brown eyes glazed with pleasure, and Grimmjow almost came from the sight. He breathed deeply, looking at the bright orange hair sticking to Ichigo's forehead, his cheeks pink.

Then, the most heartbreaking smile broke out on Ichigo's face. "I fucking love you, Grimmjow."

The words sent a shiver racing up and down and his spine, and he latched onto Ichigo's mouth, pulling his fingers out, spreading the man's legs and settling in between them. Ichigo groaned, twirling his hips, trying to get closer, and Grimmjow struggled as the strings on his control slipped through his fingers.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

With a low grunt, Grimmjow thrust his hips, pushing halfway in as Ichigo jerked in his arms, back arching as he cried out in pleasure and pain. His nails were digging small crescents in Grimmjow's shoulders, but he didn't care. He was pushing further in, gritting his teeth as Ichigo's muscles convulsed around him, trying to adjust to the intrusion.

It wasn't like they had never had sex before, but unless Grimmjow just didn't pay attention, Ichigo never seemed to loosen. He was always tight, and it squeezed his dick mercilessly as he panted against Ichigo's shoulder.

"I love you, too," he whispered, feeling Ichigo's smile as he pulled back, only to shove himself back in. Ichigo grunted, but after Grimmjow's second thrust, he sighed in contentment, relaxing until his eyes flew open and a strangled scream filled the room.

"Grimm! Oh, god, Grimm, there! Harder!"

"Shit, Ichi," Grimmjow growled, hips jerking sporadically as those words sent more heat straight to his groin. But he complied, moving faster, angling his hips as his teeth found Ichigo's neck. He reached down, tugging on Ichigo's neglected cock, the man beneath him jerking and writhing again.

They didn't last much longer. Ichigo came with a quick gasp and a loud groan of Grimmjow's name, and the blue haired man pistoned slowly, burying his growl of pleasure as he bit Ichigo's neck.

Ichigo sighed, body limp, sated smile lighting his face.

Grimmjow grinned. "That finish it enough for you?"

The smile on Ichigo's face became lecherous. "Not even close." He rolled them over, straddling Grimmjow's hips. Grimmjow groaned as Ichigo's fingers quickly made his dick harden again.

But the man on top of him was the only thing he wanted.

The only thing he _needed_.

00000

"_Grimmjow, what would you do it they kidnapped me?"_

_They were in bed again after another round of riotous sex that Kenpachi would never find out about because if he did, he would tear down his own cabin. Something about "unsanitary measures and disrespect," but Grimmjow knew Kenpachi didn't care that the two were together._

_But Grimmjow's arms tightened around Ichigo's waist._

"_Don't even suggest that."_

_Ichigo turned to face him, eyes serious and sincere, and even a little curious. "But say they did. What would you do?"_

_He spoke without thinking. "I'd fight them all. I'd make sure they regretted even the _thought_ of taking you away from me."_

_A tiny smile tugged at Ichigo's lips, but it faltered. "Would you kill anyone?"_

_This time, Grimmjow thought about it. He didn't like the answer. "Probably." He saw Ichigo nod, but he knew the man had taken it correctly. The "probably" was his own way of saying "definitely."_

_Ichigo's tanned hand touched his left pectoral just above his heart. "I…I don't think I'd mind. I think I would just want you to find me. I wouldn't like the fact that people would be dying, or want you to have to deal with collateral damage; and it's selfish, but…I'd want you to find me before…"_

_Grimmjow's arms tightened again. "I wouldn't let them hurt you."_

_He wouldn't let them hurt him._

"Where the fuck is he?" Grimmjow yelled, hands tightening sporadically, his dangerous temper hovering so, _so_ close to the edge. The only reason this man wasn't dead was because he had the answer Grimmjow needed.

The man shifted. "I can't tell you that."

This time, Grimmjow did get a fistful of his shirt. "Where. The fuck. Is Ichigo?" he snarled, and he could almost smell the man's fear.

"They're holding him somewhere, but that's all I know! I swear!"

Grimmjow let him go with a growl. "You'd better be telling the truth…"

"Look, all I know is that I was sent to collect you. They were tired of you taking a long time to answer them, so they took…him…to make sure you would cooperate, or he's dead."

Oh, that was the _wrong_ thing to say. God, he hated them, and he just knew that Aizen was behind the whole thing. Aizen was the one that had found him, taught him how to be the Sexta. Gave him the name, the tattoo on his back…

"They want you to work for them again, Sexta."

Grimmjow whipped his head towards the man, blue eyes turning icy. "Don't call me that."

"So? What do you say?"

"…_But," Ichigo warned, brown eyes completely and utterly serious. "If they threaten you to work for them because I'll die, don't you _dare_ agree."_

_Grimmjow was stunned. "I-Ichi…"_

_The orange haired man rested on an elbow. "I'll fight them, you know I will, but I don't want you to think that you have to join them just because my life is threatened. I want you to fight, and I want you to take out as many people as you can because there's no way I'll let them make you _or_ me a pawn."_

_He couldn't believe it. "Why would you do that, Ichigo?" he whispered._

_Ichigo's eyes were fierce. "Because I love you. Because I'm a protector, not some princess meant to be protected at all times. I will fight for you. So you fight for me."_

_There was no hesitation. "Of course."_

"Well?" the man asked again.

Grimmjow snarled. "I'm gonna fight all you fuckers. I'll kill all of you until I'm the only one left standing." He knew the phone was on speaker. He knew they heard his threat.

The man gulped, but otherwise remained outwardly calm. "You won't make it. But be my guest if you'd like to die."

A large, wicked smile split Grimmjow's lips. "Then I'll start with you." His arm flashed out, hand steady, eyes a chaotic swirl of blue yet as determined and hard as diamond. His finger pressed, no remorse, the crack of thunder echoing around the chamber as the gun fired.

_With a bullet straight through the center of the man's forehead_.

For a moment, the gun smoked, and he lowered his hand.

They wanted him to become a monster again.

He growled, shoulders straightening, posture intimidating as he scoffed at the dead body bleeding on the cold, concrete flooring.

Well, then.

He wouldn't disappoint them.

00000

**A/N:** Ahem. Yes, so there's this installment, one-shot, thing. Don't know if anyone caught it but I made sort of a reference to Orihime. I don't hate her, but she's not a character I'm extremely fond of. Even still, I couldn't make Ichigo die. That was my original plan, but I just couldn't do it. So Ichigo lives. I do have some ideas from a different story that borderline with this one, so maybe one day I'll take this story off of the "one-shot" list and make it into a novel. If you guys would like that, let me know. Reviews are _always_ appreciated.

- wolf's paradise


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** So, a lot of you asked for a sequel, and a few of you thought my last ending was good – it left the reader thinking, which is what I wanted. And I know I said in my last A/N that I might make this a novel – sized story one day, but that's not gonna happen. So that was why I decided to make a second chapter. I really don't want to put the time into making it a long story, and I really like the style of the first chapter. I don't want to change it, so here is the second chapter for you guys. I hope you guys enjoy this!

**Disclaimer:** Okay, I'm not doing these anymore. Everyone knows I don't freakin own _Bleach_.

Getting Away With Murder 2

There was a soft splutter – small, useless, insignificant – before the soft thud echoed through the quiet night. Grimmjow tilted his head, latent guilt settling through his chest. He hadn't wanted to kill this one. Ulquiorra had been a good partner – though extremely annoying at any given moment. He had been sent to stop Grimmjow, but that was not what he'd done.

Ulquiorra had appeared, calm and emotionless as ever in loose, dark green pants and a quarter-sleeved tan shirt, hands stuffed in his pockets. Beside him, Starrk had moved into view, dressed casually in jeans and a white t-shirt. His arms were crossed languidly, hands away from the twin guns holstered on his hips. Grimmjow felt nostalgia creep over his body.

"We were sent to stop you," Ulquiorra murmured, green eyes staring and voice bland – just like always.

"You shouldn't," Grimmjow said simply.

Starrk decided his opinion was necessary. "Don't make this hard, Grimmjow."

If there was one thing that Grimmjow would readily admit, it was the fact that Starrk was the best of all of them. Grimmjow had trained under him for a while as Starrk worked security, but it had been five years since Grimmjow's alleged escape. Things were bound to have changed.

For a moment, Starrk fished in his pocket before he pulled out a small piece of paper. Grimmjow was wary, but accepted it when Starrk handed it to him. He looked at it, confusion knitting his brow.

"It's just names," he said, voice gravelly. He hadn't talked much in the past few weeks.

"Blind as always," Starrk sighed, but Grimmjow didn't take offense like he normally would have. It was Starrk that had said it, and he hadn't meant it in a bad way.

"Those are the names of the security guards, muscle men; the numbers beside it are the—"

"Ratios," Grimmjow murmured, suddenly seeing the pattern of numbers, the way they fit into a map of streets, times of the officers' patrols, and –

Grimmjow looked up sharply. "You know where Ichigo is?"

"Cell block D, number 15."

"Highest security."

"Of course."

Grimmjow growled. "Why does he want me back? I've been gone, and I haven't told anybody anything." He clenched his fists. Sexta was slipping. It was slipping, and he had to get it back. Calm. Control. He took a deep breath, snarling under his breath but it came back. When he looked at Starrk, he only saw sadness. No disappointment, no fear. Just sadness and admiration.

But the man didn't comment on it.

"You should know. Does Aizen ever let any of us go?" Starrk murmured.

He was right. Grimmjow didn't want to admit it, but it was the truth. Aizen didn't let any of his people go after he had gotten his fingers on them.

"And you did escape Grimmjow," Starrk continued, finishing Grimmjow's thoughts. "He just wanted you to come back quietly, and since you didn't, he took away something precious to you like the psychopath he is."

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. "You're normally too lazy to say shit so forcefully."

Starrk just shrugged and smirked slightly.

"Did I surprise him? Did I make him mad?" Grimmjow growled fiercely.

Grey eyes sharpened ever so slightly. "Well," Starrk started languidly, "when he heard your threat and the gunshot through the phone, he frowned and shot Di Roy in the head."

A slow feral smile spread Grimmjow's lips. "Copacetic."

Starrk chuckled, then sobered after a moment. "Don't mess this up, Grimmjow."

"I'm getting him back."

"Of course." He paused for a moment, then shifted, eyes no longer lazy, but sharp and commanding as he slipped his hands into his pockets. "Listen to me, Grimmjow," he said lowly. "You despise Sexta. You can't do this alone, no matter how hard you might try."

Grimmjow felt his lips curl in a snarl.

"But Sexta can."

Those words stopped all thoughts of ripping the man a new one, and instead, he blinked, dumbfounded. "What?"

Starrk's lips remained set, but he said again, "Grimmjow cannot save Ichigo. But Sexta can." He shifted again, turning slowly, but before he had gone two steps, he stopped, glancing over his shoulder. "Think, Grimmjow. You know what to do."

As he watched Starrk leave, Grimmjow knew what the man had said was true. He wouldn't be able to save Ichigo as Grimmjow – as himself. But even as Starrk disappeared, Grimmjow set his jaw. He would use Sexta – Ichigo's life depended on that – but he was not going to lose himself. He would be there, right behind Sexta, but that was the point.

He would be there.

Ulquiorra remained there, staying and explaining…

He hadn't wanted to kill his friend, but Ulquiorra was a different type of person. He'd proved beyond a shadow of a doubt how sound the logic in killing him had been, and Grimmjow knew what Aizen made Ulquiorra do, the things he had taken away from his green-eyed friend. Aizen had taken everything from Ulquiorra, but he wasn't going to take the only thing Grimmjow had ever cared about from him.

No way in fucking hell. Grimmjow would _fight_ for it.

The blue haired man turned away from his friend's body cooling on the asphalt. He needed to get into the compound soon. Ichigo was waiting for him.

00000

The guards were simply everywhere, but he had that piece of paper resting calmly between his thumb and forefinger. His mind was sharp, body ready but relaxed and utterly still as he watched the three guards pace back and forth. Two were in the trees in front of him, but he could take care of them easily enough.

Quickly, he pulled on the black beanie over his bright blue hair. Of course, that was the first thing he would have to do. Blue hair was much too obvious.

Black gloves slipped over his hands, and he adjusted his black long sleeve shirt, sharp blue eyes quickly taking in everything around him. A hand rested on the gun stuffed into his black jeans' pocket, and there was a knife in his boot and a rope across his chest. Everything he needed.

Time to move.

With practiced ease, Grimmjow crouched, slinking through the foliage and nimbly jumping up to grab a low tree branch. With all his extra upper body strength, it was easy for Grimmjow pull himself into the tree.

Three steps later, guard spotted. His hand swept to his gun as he crept forward, silent until the dull thud as he smashed the butt against the guard's head. He had done this before – nothing was different, except the need in the back of his mind to see Ichigo safe. It drove him, pushed him, but it didn't interfere with Sexta.

Grimmjow unwrapped portions of rope, cutting quickly and measuring the length with an efficiency born from years of doing this job. Before, he wouldn't have hesitated to kill any of the guards. Right now, he wanted Ichigo, and while tying someone up took more thime than shooting them, Grimmjow didn't want to kill anymore.

Oh, he could kill. He'd just killed his best friend, and only a sliver of remorse threaded through his gut.

He could. He just didn't want to anymore.

Duck tape over the mouth and the guard strapped to the tree. One more. In five minutes he was down, too.

Grimmjow looked at the sheet of paper again, mind buzzing through the ratios and patterns. He folded it up again, stuck it in his back pocket, and waited.

Eight o'clock, supplies always came. Grimmjow crept forward, scooting beneath the vehicle just as a guard came around the back with a flashlight. It took all his strength to hang on as the truck was waved through the gate, but once the doors closed, he let go, gritting his teeth as his back hit the asphalt.

Get up. Hurry.

Eight-o-two and the drivers were parking. Eight-o-three and the guards came out to greet them. Eight-o-five, the guards switched shifts.

He glanced around, hiding in the bushes outside the supply door. The way Aizen's entire compound was built reminded him of that kid's movie Ichigo had made him watch once – _Mr. Incredible_ or something like that. Aizen just didn't have the waterfall and the super inventions or the crazy flying machines.

But he was good enough to have something similar. Or just as deadly.

The guards were chatting with the drivers, and Grimmjow slipped through the open door. In this light, all black wasn't too good, but he knew how to enter without anyone knowing. These guards were troublesome, though, even if Starrk had given him post times. He couldn't risk it anymore – duck tape and rope had been left in the bushes.

One guard. Not moving. In the way. His hands rose, gun steady as a rock as he gently squeezed the trigger. Just the slightest _pfft_, and the man fell. Grimmjow hurried over, dragging him out of sight somewhere where no one would think to look. He tucked the gun in the back of his jeans again.

Hueco Mundo was a maze of white walls and hallways, but Grimmjow didn't need a map to know his way through the compound. He had travelled these hallways so many times that he knew where each one led, where the doors were, and the quarters, the eating hall, the training rooms, the shooting pads, the classrooms.

Not to mention the supply rooms that looked like the inside of abandoned warehouses. If Aizen was smart, and Grimmjow knew he was, that was where the man would hide Ichigo. The warehouse rooms were always supplied with a back-up generator (as was Aizen's office, naturally), but the rooms were ridiculously large. It would be easy to hide something there, even if it was Ichigo.

Starrk had said Ichigo was in cellblock D. That was where most of the warehouses were, where they kept the tightest security because those were the rooms that housed all of the weapons Aizen had managed to illegally obtain.

Grimmjow slinked along the walls, everything coming back to him. Five years and he still felt a sense of familiar comfort settle in his gut as he moved, but that voice in the back of his mind, the one that was _him_ and not Sexta told him there was no time for comfort. He no longer belonged in this place.

True, he felt this place was familiar, and while he felt comfort in it that was the extent of what he felt. He was merely comfortable because he knew this place, it hadn't changed, he was in his element.

_It was so cold. So freezing. And all he had was that holey blanket that had to be filled with dirt and lice and numerous other disgusting things. He couldn't bring himself to care. He had tried to find shelter, but he was only fourteen, and if there was anything anyone hated it was dirty little kids._

"_Are you cold, little one?" a kind voice said._

_He glanced up, immediately wary. The man's grey eyes were soft and his wavy brown hair a little unkempt, but there was something about him that Grimmjow didn't like. He hugged the blanket closer and nodded anyway._

"_How old are you?"_

"_Fourteen," he whispered._

"_Well, how about you stay with me for the night? I have a very vast home, and many people that work for me. If I take you in, will you work for me?"_

_He may have been fourteen, but he was sharp. "No. Nuthin's in it fer me."_

_The man chuckled. "Very true. But you could be the elite."_

"…_Elite?" Grimmjow said slowly, blue eyes still wary._

"_Yes. They know about everything, and they have talent, smarts, and most of all, my confidence."_

_Grimmjow studied the man. He looked sort of familiar… "Who are you?"_

"_I am Aizen Sousuke."_

_Now he knew why the man was so familiar. He was also a big business, running underground corporations and stuff that Grimmjow didn't know about but knew was important. "And why are you interested in me?"_

"_Because you are a very smart boy," Aizen said calmly. "Come on, little one."_

_He didn't want to be called that, but no way was he going to tell that to the man that could have ten men sent out to kill him with a snap of his fingers._

_Tentatively, Grimmjow reached out, Aizen helping him stand and walking towards a large van. Tension mounted inside his little body in waves, but he knew Aizen's reputation. The homeless geezers out here might be stupid, but they saw Aizen clearly, and their assessments of the man's reputation were accurate. Aizen didn't…touch…those that worked for him._

"_Come sit in the front seat, Grimmjow," Aizen said jovially. Grimmjow did, tentatively looking back. In the back seat were two kids, one that looked his age and one that looked ten or eleven. Next to them was another kid, but he was older, like sixteen._

_The boy that looked his age was skinny as a rail and glowering, violet eyes mad at everything. He lifted a bandana tied around one eye to see Grimmjow clearly, then set it back over the eye with a scoff. The younger boy was thin, too, but like a girl and had pink hair. The older kid… Grimmjow suddenly realized he had met him before. He was Starrk._

"_Now, what is your name, little one?" Aizen asked._

_Grimmjow's eyes flicked away from Starrk, but he just stared at Aizen. In this world, a name was power. It was the only part of you that was exclusively yours, that you _owned_, and he didn't like this man. He didn't want to give him that power._

"_Hmm," Aizen said thoughtfully, smiling. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. You will be given a new name, as have the others."_

"_Who're they?"_

"_The older boy is Primera." Grimmjow quickly glanced at Starrk, and the boy just stared. Maybe he knew the whole name thing, too, because he'd introduced himself to Grimmjow as Starrk. Not Primera. "I've decided the pink haired boy will be Octava. It suits him. The other one is Quinta. You three will be my next Espada."_

"_Who am I?"_

"_Yes, who are you indeed?" Aizen mused as he began driving. "I know. You will be Sexta."_

But even if all this was familiar, even Sexta didn't want to stay.

The blue haired man slipped behind a wall, listening intently, breathing the slightest sigh of relief when he realized the guard hadn't seen him. He scoffed inwardly. The man was so loud, stomping his feet against the floor and tapping his ak47 against the palm of his left hand.

So careless.

Grimmjow's hand shot out, snatching the man's shirt and heaving him around, clamping a hand over the guard's mouth before he could make a sound. With a flash he had pulled out his silencer gun and pressed it against the guy's temple. He slowly let go of the man's uniform and took the ak47 out of the guard's hands.

"Look into my eyes," Grimmjow growled. "Do you believe I'll kill you?"

After a second, the man nodded nervously.

"Good," Grimmjow rumbled, a smirk tipping the side of his mouth. "Now, how long have you worked here."

The guy swallowed. "Six…Six years."

"You know who I am?"

The guard shook his head, eyes fearful. Grimmjow's lips curled and he lifted the edge of his beanie, revealing the smallest bit of blue hair. The guy's eyes widened.

"Recognize me now?" Grimmjow said lowly, eyes cold.

"Uh huh," the guy said quietly, voice shaking. "You're… You're Sexta."

"Very good." Grimmjow pressed his gun harder against the guard's temple. "What do you know?"

"Nothing! I'm just a guard, I swear!"

A frown tugged at Grimmjow's mouth. "I don't believe you. But you said you believed me when I told you I would shoot you. If you don't know anything, then you're expendable."

The guy's eyes widened, and he started to struggle quietly, and Grimmjow merely shook his head back and forth, tsking quietly. "Should've listened," he murmured. His finger pulled the trigger when he stopped short, head cocking to the side. He slowly detached the gun from the guard's temple.

"Take off your shirt and gloves."

"I… What?"

"Do it," Grimmjow snarled, patience wearing thin. The voice in the back of his mind was urging him to hurry, and Sexta knew they didn't have much time to waste, either.

Wordlessly, the guard stripped out of his shirt and gloves, handing them to Grimmjow. The blue haired man mumbled a quick warning, donned the clothes but put the shirt on backwards. He sidled back up to the man, positioning his chest at the guard's back and the gun at the man's temple again.

"Anymore information?"

The guard hesitated, and Grimmjow knew he knew something. But whatever it was would have to wait. He was short on time, and he knew he could get out of this thing. He _had_ to.

Grimmjow pressed the gun to the man's temple harder.

"Wait! Wait!" he cried.

A low growl reverberated in Grimmjow's chest. "Too late," he murmured, ducking his head beneath the jacket and squeezing the trigger. The man's body jerked, then fell limply to the floor. Grimmjow scoffed, taking off the jacket and gloves and putting them back on the now-dead man.

It had only been to prevent blood spatter.

He shoved the guard behind the wall, hoping it would be a while before anyone found him. Grimmjow silently slipped down the hall, a mere shadow darting behind the other guards watching the compound.

Down the hall and to the left, then further and a right and an immediate left before he went down another long hall, right then left then straight.

The door loomed in front of him, and he felt energy humming in his veins. Sexta knew where he was, he was in his element, and he loved every minute of it. He knew what to do; it was a part of him, lessons he had learned so long ago that had been ingrained into every part of his body.

He saw Starrk's map of numbers and ratios in his head, a one-to-two-to-one ratio that no one would understand unless they were Starrk. Or, of course, if Starrk had explained it to someone, like he had to Grimmjow.

The blue haired man bent down, eyes analyzing the keypad, trying to distinguish which keys were pressed the most. Starrk hadn't given him the numbers – should anyone have seen, it might have been too easy to guess. To Grimmjow, anything Starrk did was nearly impossible to figure out, what with that genius brain, but maybe if he had powder…

Which he didn't.

_Think!_

Blue eyes roved over the keys. Aizen always did like his first numbers – zero through six. It could be any of those numbers, but if he just knew what they were… Grimmjow's eyes suddenly focused, gazing intently at the keys. Five. Six. One. The blacks of those numbers had been repainted. The silver on the other buttons was perfect. On those three numbers the edges were barely worn, but they were worn.

One-to-two-to-one.

The numbers – 5661.

Perfect.

Grimmjow carefully pressed the combination, not even bothering to check if it was right. Sexta hadn't made a mistake, and he knew it. He was right. The door clicked open with a soft click – Aizen hated loud noises, anything to disrupt his special "peace," but that was Grimmjow's saving grace.

He darted inside, and the door shut calmly behind him. Grimmjow carefully maneuvered down the hallway. If Nnoitra or Szayel or God forbid Aaroniero found him, he was in deep shit. But it seemed that they were all in their rooms. The blue haired man slinked past, lips pressing into a thin line.

All the doors had numbers on them. From zero to nine. But as he passed six, Grimmjow could see the door, still pristine, still undamaged – except the actual number. It had been bent out of shape, mutilated, no doubt by one of his fellow assassins, and he felt anger rise white hot inside of his chest. Aizen was keeping that door nice because he expected – he'd _known_ – that Grimmjow would come back.

But that was the thing. Grimmjow _hadn't_ come back, and he _wouldn't_ go back. Aizen had apparently misjudged him, but he hadn't been too far off when he had stolen Ichigo. It was merely by chance that he and Ichigo had already talked about it.

Past the bedrooms. Past the classrooms where they had been taught. Past the training rooms. Grimmjow fought against the urge to straighten, to push through the halls as if nothing had happened and go back to everything familiar. Everything he knew. He growled inwardly.

Things had happened. _Ichigo_ was his home now. _Ichigo_ was everything he knew. _Ichigo_ was familiar. It was _always_ Ichigo.

"_Che, that boy still workin' here?"_

_Grimmjow scoffed too, but nodded. "Yeah. Doesn't look like he's got the strength to do it, but you'd be surprised."_

"_I know." Kenpachi watched the orange haired man for a moment, as did Grimmjow. He couldn't even begin to say what it was about Ichigo that had him hanging around all the time or teasing the kid, but he just did. Ichigo was…different, and different was not something that Grimmjow was used to._

_Kenpachi shifted beside him, and Grimmjow turned his eyes on his boss. There was an unfathomable look in his eyes that had him ready and alert, but Grimmjow squashed Sexta down. He didn't need him. Not when Kenpachi was around._

"_Don't hurt that kid, Grimmjow," Kenpachi rumbled._

"_I beg your pardon?"_

"_You heard me. You like that kid, Grimmjow." The huge man shifted, eyes pinning Grimmjow to the spot in which he stood as easily as if he had chains. "I'm not stupid. I know about your night job. I dunno know what it is you do, Grimmjow, but it's not good. I'm not prying, but whatever your night job is, _don't_ get that kid mixed up in it."_

_Grimmjow nodded, but said, "What makes you think I like the asshole?"_

_The large man chuckled. "I ain't stupid, and I ain't blind, kid," he said simply. "Now get back to work."_

_The blue haired man watched him go. Kenpachi could have made him admit to everything in which Grimmjow was involved, but he didn't. Kenpachi was truly the first person that Grimmjow would have called a real friend._

_He made his way over to the orange haired kid lifting up the heavy chains and dragging the log over to the flat trailer. They needed two to three men, or just one managing the Cat, to lift the logs into the bed, but Kurosaki kept pushing on, dragging as many logs as possible near the trailer so all they would have to do was lift them._

_Kurosaki was more valuable than he'd originally thought._

"_You're actually gettin' the hang of this, Strawberry," Grimmjow called, grinning._

_Kurosaki glanced his way and smirked back, heaving a thick log next to another. "Yeah, pretty surprising, huh, Blueberry?"_

_Grimmjow's lip curled, but he wasn't angry. If there was one thing Kurosaki knew how to do very well, it was insult somebody right back. But it was a quality that Grimmjow admired. No one, so far as he knew, had been able to keep up with him. They'd either run in terror or…well, they'd mostly just run in terror._

_People had always given him a wide berth, and he knew why. Oh, they didn't know that his night job consisted of killing people, but he made sure to walk with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched, and a frown on his face – body language for "stay away."_

_And people did._

_But not Kurosaki. He'd seen Grimmjow scowling plenty of times, but he had merely scowled back, insulted him, fought him, and generally made life miserable. Okay, so Kurosaki really didn't make life miserable. He actually made it…bearable._

_Grimmjow was so confused._

_He quickly brushed that aside. He had work to do, and he needed to start now or Kenpachi was going to have his ass. Sweat trickled down his back, and Grimmjow glanced at the sky, frowning. It was cloudy and fucking eighty today, not to mention the added humidity was making him sweat like a pig._

_Screw splinters. He was fucking hot._

_So, Grimmjow tossed his shirt, dislodging some of the extra chains from the logs Kurosaki had brought over and heaving one end onto the trailer. Once it was steady, he grabbed the other end, shoving it all the way over to make room for others. He did this for three more logs until he noticed that Kurosaki had stopped bringing more._

_He turned, Kurosaki suddenly realizing something. He jumped and turned away, face burning. Grimmjow smirked, pride welling up in his chest, though he didn't know why. "Gettin' tired there, Kurosaki?"_

_The orange haired man turned around, stunned for a moment before he grinned. "Hell no, Grimmjow." He pealed off his dark jade t-shirt. "Just gettin' started."_

_Grimmjow's breath suddenly hitched. All he saw was a large expanse of tan skin, gliding silkily over muscles Grimmjow had never thought the kid possessed. He had always thought of Kurosaki as skinny, but now that he saw the kid was actually built, it surprised him. And made something growl and twitch and awaken inside of him._

_He huffed, getting back to work. Finally, it seemed as if Kurosaki was done hauling logs because he started helping Grimmjow lift them into the trailer. And just like always, they started arguing over something of little importance, and so started their daily wrestling matches._

_Suddenly, they were rolling on the floor, throwing punches and dodging and trying to get the advantage. There was always that voice in the back of Grimmjow's head, though – don't fight too hard…don't show him what you can do…undercover…_

_And with hardly any trouble at all, as with so many other times, Grimmjow had the kid pinned, a victorious smile spreading Grimmjow's lips. "Gotcha," he sneered, and Kurosaki growled lowly, brown eyes flashing._

_Something unsettling curled in Grimmjow's gut – he leaned down, missing the way the kid's eyes widened before he tried to push Grimmjow away. But the blue haired man had other ideas. He grabbed Kurosaki's wrists and slammed them to the ground, holding them above his head and effectively making Grimmjow's face come closer to Kurosaki's. The orange haired man let out a startled sound of surprise._

_He stared at Kurosaki, still smiling, careful to appear like nothing was wrong. He always happened to get Kurosaki underneath him, and it sent that same unsettling feeling exploding. Suddenly, without warning, Kurosaki leaned up, lips pressing to Grimmjow's._

_The blue haired man jerked away, staring at Kurosaki wide-eyed. The kid seemed to realize what he'd done because his eyes widened comically, and he started stuttering something unintelligible. He was looking away, trying to get out of Grimmjow's grasp._

_And then Grimmjow was leaning down, closing his mouth of Kurosaki's. Now he knew what this was. Sex had never been a large part of Grimmjow's life – he had taken care of his needs, but _never_ had those sexual desires been accompanied by the strange tweak in his chest and constant coiling in his gut._

_No, that was different, and Kurosaki's bold move was making him realize that._

_He moved his lips slowly, and he tipped his tongue towards Ichigo's. He was surprised at the hesitation – Grimmjow was never hesitant in his work, but he was just beginning to understand that _everything_ with Ichigo was going to be different, and he actually found himself not minding that._

_Ichigo moaned quietly, pushing his tongue back, coaxing Grimmjow to participate even more. It was like releasing something wild within Grimmjow. His hands left Ichigo's wrists, one grasping the back of his neck and tilting his head up while the other slid down and viciously gripped Ichigo's hip. Ichigo lifted his own arms, one tangling in Grimmjow's hair and the other sliding over Grimmjow's chest and abdomen._

_The soft sounds coming from Ichigo's mouth had his dick hardening, but when he felt it press against the bulge of the man underneath him, he pulled away, panting. He had definitely not expected that to happen._

_Ichigo's face was red, eyes glassy but alert as well. Grimmjow furrowed his eyebrows. Since when did he refer to Kurosaki as Ichigo…?_

"_Uhm…" Ichigo murmured, and Grimmjow scratched the back of his neck._

"_So…"_

"_Wanna do that again?"_

_He desperately wanted to say yes, but Grimmjow shook his head. "No." He winced at the way his voice sounded. It was all gravelly and husky, and he hated the disappointed look pulling at Ichigo's face. That wasn't what he meant! God, he sucked at this._

"_We've got work," he rumbled. "Later."_

_At that Ichigo seemed to perk up, and he smiled before diving in, catching Grimmjow in another kiss. It was hot and wonderful, and it scorched Grimmjow from head to toe._

"_Later then," Ichigo grinned, and Grimmjow reciprocated. He had the strangest feeling that he had just made an absolutely wonderful decision._

There was only one thing he needed from this place, and it was in cellblock D, number 15. He didn't look at the rooms passing, even though he knew what every single one of them was for. He had to find Ichigo.

He crept past the other training rooms, and even the simulator. He would never forget that room. That simulation was no lie – if you missed, if you didn't shoot, _you_ were the one that was dead, cooling on the ground as your blood slowly spread out of your body. According to Aizen, Grimmjow had performed very well.

The only other person who had gotten that remark was Starrk.

Once again, Grimmjow thanked the man. He was his lifesaver at the moment, and Ichigo's, too. Grimmjow knew he would have been able to get into the building without Starrk's help, but the man had made everything ten times easier.

Grimmjow reached cellblock D, a slow, feral smile spreading over his lips. The guard was dead, the toe of his boot keeping the door open. Well, it saved him from taking one life and trying to get into the warehouse section of the compound. Starrk hadn't provided this information in the piece of paper, but since Starrk was head of security, of course he would know how to get through.

This definitely was the highest security section. There were three guards every few paces, though these three were merely chatting. It wasn't anything important, but there was no way he couldn't get rid of them. But they were all out in the open. This was going to be difficult, but not impossible.

Grimmjow pulled out his gun. He would need to fire quickly before any of them could sound the alarm. He glanced back at the body near the fence, completely hidden by the boarded bottom of the chain link fence from the other guards' eyes. He looked over, something small and black poking from the man's back. Grimmjow grabbed it, and smiled again.

Starrk.

The bastard had gone and given him _another_ gun, attached with silencer and everything, and the same type of gun that he already had. God fucking bless Starrk.

He didn't hesitate. He didn't question his ability. He knew it as deeply as he knew himself, and he stood, walking calmly into the view of the three guards. They hesitated, unsure of what to do. That was the other reason for wearing black.

Everything in Hueco Mundo was white, but the guards dressed in black. They didn't know what to do with him, and wicked grin stretched his lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

"Hey, boys," he rumbled before his hands suddenly blurred, bringing the guns up and hitting a one-two with both guns before he used his original to wipe out the third guard. He stepped over and propped them against the wall, thinly hoping that no one would notice the blood spatter. He didn't really care; he was almost there anyway.

"Che," he scoffed, walking further down the hall, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Too fucking easy."

Though cellblock D had the highest security, it had very few guards. It was reinforced electronically, and quickly, Grimmjow made sure to mix up some wires and make it look legit in the electric box that someone had tampered with it – he didn't want Starrk to be found out.

Number 15 wasn't hard to find, and once he was there, he quietly entered, dashing inside once he noticed two patrol guards start down the hall. He locked the door as best as possible, then glanced around the huge room.

Ichigo.

He was blindfolded, strapped to a chair with his hands behind him. Grimmjow felt indignation well up in his chest.

_Wait!_

Sexta knew something was wrong. It was a trap. He knew it, too – deep down. But he didn't care. It was Ichigo, and this time, Grimmjow took over and Sexta was the cautionary voice in the back of his head.

He was still careful, but he needed to see Ichigo. He _had_ to see him. So, silent as a cat, Grimmjow stepped up to the chair, ducking behind the back. Starrk had told him where the cameras were, so he slipped Starrk's gun underneath the chair and drew out his knife. Ichigo stiffened, sucking in a worried breath.

"G-Grimmjow?" he whispered, and the blue haired man paused. Did he know? A moment later, Ichigo's body relaxed again. "Grimmjow," he sighed. When Grimmjow didn't answer, Ichigo growled softly. "Grimmjow…I know it's you. You smell the same." His voice got lower. "I'd know that smell anywhere."

The blue haired man shoved the knife through and cut the blindfold, doing the same with the bands at Ichigo's wrists and stood in front of the orange haired man. Ichigo's smile was pained, but there was relief in his eyes as well as worry, pain and downright _fury_. Grimmjow felt himself relax. Of course Ichigo would be furious.

"Come here, you son of a bitch," Ichigo snarled, grasping the front of Grimmjow's shirt and tugging him down for a searing kiss. Grimmjow pressed Ichigo into the chair, pushing his tongue inside Ichigo's mouth to let him know just who was in charge.

It had been far too long for this.

"_This is it?"_

"_Che, what'd you expect, the Taj Mahal? It's only Kenpachi's cabin."_

"_Yeah, but…this is _nice_. I didn't know Kenpachi had taste," Ichigo murmured, suitcase in hand as he opened the door and walked in. Grimmjow chuckled. Leave it to Ichigo to insult someone without meaning to._

_Grimmjow stepped in after Ichigo, shutting the door. He had to admit that the cabin was very nice. The tile was clean, and they entered into the kitchen. The counter was shiny black granite with light brown cabinets and red accents. Damn, he didn't think Kenpachi had this much taste, either. Surprise, surprise._

_He blinked in surprise when Ichigo suddenly turned around, eyes dark. He cocked his head, a smile growing over his face. Grimmjow advanced, pressing Ichigo against the small island in the middle of the kitchen. Ichigo didn't lean away, and his hands ghosted over Grimmjow's sides. The blue haired man tucked his hands underneath Ichigo's shirt, watching as the man's eyes fluttered before snapping open._

"_Too long," he growled, fumbling as he tried to get Grimmjow's shirt off, and the tension was suddenly too strong. He needed Ichigo _now_, and he knew Ichigo needed him. He peeled off Ichigo's shirt, and within seconds all of their clothes were somewhere, discarded in various places in the kitchen as Grimmjow shoved his hips against Ichigo's groaning at the spark shooting up his spine._

_Ichigo groaned, nails raking up Grimmjow's back. "It's been too long," he repeated, taking his tongue and making it swipe over Grimmjow's lips. It sent shudders rippling down Grimmjow's back. "Come on, Grimmjow," Ichigo continued. "Come on and _fuck me_."_

_That was all he needed. Grimmjow lifted Ichigo and shoved him against a wall, spitting in his hand and sliding a finger inside. A long, low moan rumbled in Ichigo's chest, and Grimmjow leaned his head against the wall, trying to desperately to rein in his control as he inserted a second finger._

"_O-Oh…" Ichigo groaned, body jerking when Grimmjow crooked a finger and tapped. Ichigo shuddered, letting out a low scream, fingers like death traps on Grimmjow's shoulders as he tried to be patient._

"_I don't care." Ichigo seemed to read his mind. "I don't care. Inside of me, right now."_

_Grimmjow growled, spitting in his hand again and coating his length, positioning it at Ichigo's entrance. But he needed something else. "Ichigo, look at me." The orange haired man just moaned, twirling his hips, murmuring something, and Grimmjow growled again. "Look at me!"_

_Brown eyes blinked open, half-lidded, and Grimmjow stared at him as he slowly, ever so slowly slipped inside that tight heat. A strangled groan left Ichigo's lips, eyes fluttering and hooded and glazed with lust. Grimmjow grunted; it was taking everything he had not to pound into Ichigo, but finally, oh _finally_ he was all the way inside._

_He pulled out slowly, then snapped his hips up. Ichigo jerked._

"_Fuck!" he cried, holding onto Grimmjow and tightening his thighs around the blue haired man's hips. "Oh, shit…shit…"_

_Grimmjow continued, one hand trying to hold him up and the other slowly pumping Ichigo's cock, a complete contradiction to the fast pace of Grimmjow's hips. God, the things this man could do to him… Grimmjow didn't know it was possible for him to feel this, to want to be a part of Ichigo so much and so often, but to him, they weren't just fucking in a kitchen. And he knew it wasn't that way for Ichigo, either._

_No, this was something different, something special, and it showed in the way Ichigo tugged at his hair and the way that temptingly lithe body responded to everything Grimmjow did._

"_God, Grimm, I…"_

_He couldn't speak, hips still moving, but for some reason, the look in Ichigo's half-lidded eyes had his tongue tied._

"_I… Uhnn!" Ichigo moaned, back arching as the sensations started becoming too much. He swallowed. "I love you. You know that, right?"_

_Grimmjow's entire body froze, ignoring Ichigo's whimper of protest._

"_What did you say?" Grimmjow whispered, something in his chest completely dropping, twisting, becoming unbearable, like it would break out any second._

_Ichigo's brows knitted in frustration, and he growled. "I said I love you, stupid."_

_He didn't care that Ichigo had just insulted him. He had said… He had said… Wide, crystal blue eyes met brown, and Grimmjow noticed Ichigo's cheeks were pink, but he was utterly and completely determined._

_Viciously, Grimmjow brought his lips down, hungrily nipping at Ichigo's lips and suddenly thrusting his hips up again. "Say it again," he growled. "God, say it again." He felt Ichigo smirk beneath their sloppy kisses._

"_I love you, idiot."_

"_Ichi…"_

_This time, he was less cocky. "I love you, idiot."_

_Suddenly, Ichigo let out a harsh cry, body going rigid as his orgasm shuddered through him, semen shooting out in spurts and muscles clenching around Grimmjow's dick. He groaned, fighting it, thrusting a few more times before it was too much and his release was ripped from him._

_They were both panting, Grimmjow's nose tucked in Ichigo's neck. His heart felt so pressured, so captured, so caged, but at the same time so light, so free, and so happy. So, he whispered, "Ichi…I…love you, too."_

Ichigo's mouth was insistent, not letting him dominate even the smallest bit, but Grimmjow let the orange haired man take over. Ichigo was constantly growling, biting his lips, panting, but he wasn't letting go, fingers digging into Grimmjow's shoulders.

They pulled away, and it seemed as if all of Ichigo's ire hadn't quite faded, but his happiness at seeing Grimmjow was just greater. The blue haired man licked his lips, still tasting Ichigo there, but Sexta was coming back.

He stiffened, giving Ichigo a quick glance before he tore away the bonds at Ichigo's feet. His gun was still in the waistband of his pants, and he placed the knife back into his boot. They had to hurry and get out of here; they had already wasted time!

"Come on, Ichigo," he murmured, and it seemed as if Ichigo could sense the difference. He didn't seem disappointed – just determined, and for that, Grimmjow was grateful.

"I knew it," Ichigo said. "I knew you'd come for me."

"Course," Grimmjow scoffed, grinning back. "What, did you think I'd leave you here?"

Suddenly, a loud clapping echoed throughout the warehouse. Both men froze.

"Well done, Sexta. Well done, indeed."

Grimmjow whirled to his left, eyes widening, and dread became a weight that churned in his gut and dropped to the ground.

Aizen.

00000

**A/N:** Um, wow. I basically finished this entire thing in one day. Absolutely crazy. Well, this chapter is a nice 19 pages long. I got a little sidetracked in the memories… haha…so sorry about that. But I'm sure you didn't mind the smut. I figured I had some in the first chapter and there should be some here, too, so there you go.

If you guys would like to read a much much longer sex scene of mine, then please check out my other stories _I Get Off _or_ We're Fucking_. Lots and lots of smut for all you GrimmIchi smut lovers. And don't worry! I will write a third chapter. Sometime… And hopefully that will be the last chapter. I realized close to the end that I had almost 20 pages and I wasn't going to fit the entire rescue into a chapter. So…yeah. Hope you guys enjoyed it!

- wolf's paradise


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** So I totally just finished the second chapter last night, and what happens? As I'm walking down my apartment steps to class my muse gets sparked by fluffy bunnies and suddenly I'm writing the third chapter instead of studying for finals. I know it's random, but you'll understand once you read further into the story lol. Thank you everyone so much for your reviews – this is going to be one badass chapter. Grimmjow. Will. Kick. Ass.

Besides, that's sexy anyway, yeah? God, I freakin love Grimmjow. He's just awesome. I just hope I make it seem like he's kicking ass… Well, have fun reading everyone ;).

Wow. I'm in a flirtatious mood today… Huh.

* * *

Getting Away With Murder 3

Grimmjow's entire body stiffened, but it was like everything seemed to fade away. He'd been more influenced by this place than he'd thought, because his body was starting to relax, his head cleared, he was breathing deeply, and this was just another meeting with Aizen after he had finished a job.

He could still feel Ichigo behind him, could feel him quaking slightly. Anger rose in his chest at that – _what had Aizen done to him?_ – but Sexta was him at the moment, and he was Sexta. They weren't separate anymore.

Aizen sauntered towards them, stopping a good fifty feet away. He had that infuriating smile on his face as he always did, but Grimmjow only felt slightly irritated. The bastard had taught him well, but not only well, Grimmjow had had the best teacher ever when it came to being impassive.

Like he had said before, Starrk was the best.

"You know, Sexta, you're just as good as you were before. I always knew there was a reason I plucked you from the streets."

Ichigo tensed behind him, but it was just an observation in his mind. He felt so disconnected, yet at the same time he was connected to everything inside of him, knowing what Ichigo meant to him – but there was just calm. No flow of emotions. Nothing else.

"And?" he said, blue eyes still trained on Aizen. Neither seemed to realize his sudden change – at least, that was how it felt to him.

"You were always smart."

Grimmjow scoffed at that.

"Like how you wouldn't tell me your name," Aizen continued, as if he had to prove the reason he picked the blue haired man. "I merely gave you the name Sexta before you learned a completely different language and was molded into someone that would serve me."

At that, Grimmjow's lip curled. He had never been _molded_. He had always been himself.

"So you were still covering your tracks when you destroyed your room and disappeared. Trust me, it was not easy for my men to find you. And not knowing your name… It was very smart, Sexta. Very smart indeed."

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Thank you? Yeah. Right.

"And yet you still found me."

"But of course! It was by mere luck that one of my men managed to see you one day and approach you. And you did the strangest thing. You refused to come back." Aizen looked positively puzzled.

It was all a lie, a mere face.

Grimmjow shifted so one foot slipped forward and his weight rested on the other. Oddly enough, he was slightly relaxed, and he knew that would piss Aizen off.

"So how did you know I was here?" Grimmjow rumbled. He didn't want to hear Aizen's sob story about his pathetic _confusion_.

Aizen smiled. "I had an extra wire attached to this room that would go off if anyone opened the door. It would transmit directly to me." He looked like he thought he was so fucking smart.

Of course Starrk couldn't have told him that. If he had, Grimmjow would have found a way to disarm it, and only someone on the inside could have told him something that exclusive. No, Grimmjow was glad Starrk kept silent. Besides, the man always had his reasons. He was a far cry from stupid.

The blue haired man cocked his head, smirking slightly. Ah, this was all coming back. "So why keep Ichigo alive?"

Aizen kept that smile on his face, but his eyes drilled into Grimmjow's. "I would think you'd know that answer, Sexta."

"If Ichigo was dead I'd kill you all. You wanted to see if I was still good enough." Of course he knew the answer.

"Very good."

"Am I?"

"Are you what?"

"Good enough."

"Oh, oh… Of course, Sexta. You managed to get this far, didn't you?"

He didn't answer. He didn't need to.

"But…I think I would still like to see your absolute best. Something similar to your…simulation test."

The door to the left opened, and a guard came out, ak47 clutched in his hands. In a second, Grimmjow had analyzed the man – he wasn't a threat, just a lowly guard, the first part to Aizen's little "test." He could feel the man's fear, and it was all he needed as leverage.

"You won't mind, will you, Sexta-kun?" Aizen said, and Grimmjow felt a spike of anger. He _hated it_ when someone – especially Aizen – added _kun_ to the end of his name, even if it was just Sexta.

The guard stepped up behind Ichigo, pinning his arms at his sides and shoving a knee in between his legs. Ichigo snarled, but Grimmjow kept his eyes trained on Aizen, posture relaxed, hands in his pockets.

Ichigo was struggling viciously, but with his arms trapped he couldn't do much. Grimmjow did _not_ like the fact that someone else was so close to the person that only he touched, especially where that guard's knee was. Nothing doing. It all belonged to him.

Grimmjow wasn't sure what Ichigo did, but whatever it was, the guard snarled out a "Bitch!" before a fist smacked into Ichigo's kidney while the other arm viciously closed around Ichigo's throat.

The thought had only crossed his mind for an instant before Grimmjow's hand flashed out, grabbing the guard's wrist and tugging. He shook his head, blue eyes icy and dead serious. "He doesn't like to be touched. Let him go."

The guard gritted his teeth and snarled, and Grimmjow just tilted his head slightly, eyes darkening. He tightened his grip ruthlessly, and the guy let Ichigo go with just a small sound of discomfort. A grin stretched Grimmjow's lips. He squeezed harder, suddenly twisting, and the _snap_ echoed throughout the warehouse room – as did the guard's scream.

Ichigo was panting, but with a growl he shoved his fist into the guy's face, before socking him in the stomach and landing a knee to the guy's balls. The guard looked completely stunned and surprised.

"I work at a fuckin' lumberyard, you bastard," Ichigo snorted.

"Hmm, not what I was expecting," Aizen mused.

Grimmjow turned back to the brown haired man. He hadn't forgotten about him, but being Aizen, that dick always needed the spotlight.

"But let's put a twist on that shall we?"

For the first time since Grimmjow had found out that Ichigo was gone, real panic crept like ice into his chest. Guards were walking into the warehouse, all of them wearing padding and all of them carrying guns. Fuck, he had forgotten padding. But he forced a calm he didn't feel, and soon, he could concentrate again. His senses had been too fine-tuned over the years to argue.

The extra clip for his gun was in his pocket. The men were lining up. Aizen had stepped aside. They were all going to shoot at him, and this was not looking good.

"Sexta-kun, how would you feel if I made Ichigo a part of us?"

"_Heh, you know what I was just thinking, Grimm?"_

_The blue haired man grunted, too tired after their riotous sex (again) in the bedroom this time. His eyes were closed, and Ichigo's voice was tired and sated, but amused as well._

"_I'd make a terrible hit man."_

_Grimmjow cracked an eye open. "What the fuck made you think of that?"_

_Ichigo shrugged. "Well, I was just thinking about what you do. You grew up completely different than I have. I grew up being told to stop being so cold and stop scowling and stop being mean. You were told just the opposite."_

"_Ugh," Grimmjow groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Do not start going on with your whole psycho-analysis bullshit."_

"_Well I would be bad at it!"_

_The blue haired man moved his arm, seeing the pouting look on Ichigo's face. He scoffed, but murmured, "Yeah, you'd be a terrible hit man."_

"_O-Oi!"_

"_Come on, Ichi," Grimmjow chuckled, turning so he faced Ichigo. "You'd be terrible. You'd be afraid to hit all those fluffy bunnies."_

_Ichigo looked at him like he had grown a second head. "Bunnies?"_

"_Yeah. You'd think all of them were like cute fluffy bunnies that deserved life."_

_But Ichigo was fighting not to laugh. "Seriously? Bunnies? What the hell made you think of _bunnies_?" Ichigo cackled._

"_Shut up," Grimmjow snarled._

"_Ooooo, I'm scared."_

"_Asshole."_

"_Dick."_

"_Strawberry."_

"_Blueberry."_

"_Bastard."_

"_Kitty."_

_Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. "What?" His voice was utterly deadly, but Ichigo didn't look the slightest bit afraid._

"_I said 'k-i-t-t-y'."_

_Suddenly Grimmjow was on top of him, and Ichigo was laughing, not even trying to fight Grimmjow off until the blue haired man suddenly plunged a finger inside of him. Ichigo's entire body jolted and his laughter screeched to a halt, only to become a moan._

_Grimmjow slowly swirled his finger, teasing, just barely reaching Ichigo's prostate before pulling back again. Within a minute, Ichigo was writhing underneath him._

"_You'll pay for that," Grimmjow said, voice gravelly as the lust coiled in his gut again. Watching Ichigo respond to him was practically the hottest thing that he had ever seen._

"_P-Promise? Ooohhh, shit," Ichigo groaned when Grimmjow slowly added a second finger._

_He leaned down to Ichigo's ear, swirling his tongue around the shell and biting on the lobe. "Oh, yeah." Ichigo's body shuddered._

It didn't matter that Ichigo would never agree to it. Rage boiled in Grimmjow's veins, but he kept a tight rein on his control. Aizen loved it when his people lost control, and that was a victory that Grimmjow could not give that man.

But he did hear a small breath come out of Ichigo's lips, no doubt to try to ebb away the thick tension in the room. "Fluffy bunnies," he whispered.

Grimmjow nodded ever so slightly (what a memory to remember at a time like this), but he was already glancing around the room for a way to be safe about this. There were crates that they could hide behind to the back right of the warehouse, but he wasn't sure if they would make it. Aizen's men weren't terrible shots.

"Back up, Ichi," he murmured. "Grab the 47 and back up to the chair."

Ichigo didn't question him. He grabbed the gun, and it didn't take Grimmjow long for his fingers to find the extra bullets. Aizen hadn't let them get very far away from the chair, and Grimmjow and Ichigo had been standing in front of him, blocking his view. He shouldn't know about the second gun.

Aizen sighed. "I really do hate to do this, Sexta."

Grimmjow scoffed inwardly. Yeah, right.

"Whenever you're ready," he said to his men, spreading his arms wide and smiling. Grimmjow's lip curled. Figured. That bastard would enjoy watching the carnage.

All of Grimmjow's senses spread out, and his body was loose, but tense enough to where any signal from his brain would be carried out swiftly. He didn't look at Ichigo, his eyes roaming the hoard of guards.

"Listen to me, Ichigo," he said lowly. "If I tell you to do something, do it. Got it?"

There was a deep breath. "Okay."

Movement to the side, but no one firing. Grimmjow ground his teeth. He couldn't wait for them to fire first. If he let them, he was a dead man, and so was Ichigo. He had to do this _now_.

His hand blurred, emptying two rounds into two guards to his left and shouting, "Get me that gun under the chair!" He felt the butt hit his open palm as he continued shooting, bringing the other arm up and firing with Starrk's gun. The noises weren't that loud, and most of the men stood there, stunned. Grimmjow belatedly noticed Aizen was frowning, and suddenly, he was back in the game.

The men started putting up their 47s, and Grimmjow grinned as the sound of un-silenced bullets ripped through the air. This was something he knew how to deal with. Gone was any uncertainty that he wouldn't win. He _knew_ he would, even if he had to protect Ichigo.

Bullets were flying, and he would duck, twist, always making sure that his body was in front of Ichigo's. They all had padding, but he knew where to hit. It took a second more to line up, but the shots weren't wasted this way.

Another guard, lifting his rifle, and Grimmjow suddenly growled. He wasn't aiming at him. He was aiming at Ichigo.

Just a second.

_Line it up_.

Left eye sifted closed.

_Squeeze the trigger_.

The gun shuddered in his hand. It hit just above the man's gun – right in his forehead, blood spattering on the two men next to them and making them flinch. Two rounds and their hesitation cost them life.

Others were still shooting, but he moved constantly, even in the small space he had been given. It was the old fencing lessons he'd had – you had a bubble, and that bubble was all the room you got, and you had to work with it.

Suddenly, Grimmjow's eyes widened, and he whirled, glaring at the two guards fast approaching, guns trained on Ichigo. A snarl ripped through his throat as his hands came up on either side of Ichigo, but just the slightest glance to the side…

Time stopped.

Ichigo's brown eyes were wide, mouth slightly open like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The only other time Grimmjow had seen that look was when Ichigo had first found out.

Shit.

Behind!

"Duck, Ichi."

_Too late_.

Grimmjow's fingers hit the triggers, and he swayed to the side, but not fast enough. A bullet ripped through the fabric and skin on his bicep, sending searing pain shooting along his nerves.

Starrk's gun was out, and he dropped it, slipping his hand into his jeans and replacing the cartridge to his gun. A second bullet shot past his leg, another just underneath his other arm.

That's all the moving did, but it was enough. Only half of the bullets would hit him, but when they hit him, they would only graze. He would bleed, but not as much as if he had a bullet lodged in his smooth muscle.

Fucking Aizen. He should have known the bastard was going to do something like this, and he had known, even if he didn't want to, that Aizen was going to make him kill these people in front of Ichigo. That's just who he was, but Grimmjow was going to prove him _wrong_.

Everything was so chaotic; he was barely able to move fast enough, trying to hit each one of them before they could possibly get a solid hit on him or even graze Ichigo. He would _not_ let them touch Ichigo, or else he would become hell itself.

He ducked, shoving his body on top of Ichigo's and grunting when the bullet grazed his back.

"G-Grimm…"

"Not now, Ichi," he growled, reaching out with his left hand and firing again. Three guards. Two. One.

None.

Grimmjow gritted his teeth, panting, slowly lifting himself off of Ichigo. His arms shook, but he ignored it, wincing when blood dripped from his neck onto Ichigo's cheek. His shoulder burned, and he knew a bullet must have grazed him there, too. He stood slowly, ignoring the aches that started to grip his body as well. He wasn't done yet.

He picked up the rifle, snatching it to his shoulder. There were other men outside. He could almost feel them breathing, waiting to ambush him. Grimmjow wasn't going to let them.

A soft sigh left his lips as he lined his right eye with the scope. It wasn't quite needed, but he was a good judge of how they were positioned: hunched forward, legs tucked beneath them, rifles ready, perfect to move. Just a tilt, and Grimmjow's finger pushed the gun a centimeter to the left.

The recoil tucked into his shoulder as the shot echoed through the warehouse. There was a small _thud_.

Focus.

Another shot through the wall. Another dead. He breathed again, checked the scope, and fired again. How many were there? He'd guess five, but he wasn't sure.

He paused.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he whispered.

Three seconds later, another man showed, lifting his rifle. But Grimmjow was faster. This time the recoil made him grunt and wince; he was fighting not to show any weakness, but he knew his shirt and pants were soaking up the blood.

No danger though. Not yet.

Five. Down.

Grimmjow lowered the rifle, dropping it to the floor and turning to face Aizen. He stared at his old boss, eyes gleaming with icy fire as he breathed deeply. He wasn't out of shape. That was why he had chosen the lumberyard. It kept him fit. But he was bleeding.

"Wonderful, Sexta."

His lip curled. He didn't say anything, but his body unconsciously relaxed when he felt Ichigo tentatively touch his back.

"Fuck," Ichigo whispered, anger creeping into his voice. "Grimm, I…_fuck_."

"I came here to get you, Ichi," Grimmjow said quietly, voice sounding tired even to him.

The orange haired man growled, but Grimmjow didn't blame Ichigo for doing nothing one bit. How often did you see someone you love take down a hoard of at least twenty men? For him, it was his job. Blood and the extermination of life were normal for him. But not for Ichigo. Never for Ichigo.

And he shouldn't have to see it.

"I told you I would get you out. I will." Grimmjow was determined.

"But…goddammit, Grimm, you're bleeding!" Ichigo protested, though not loudly. The blue haired man smiled.

"I've had worse."

"Bullshit."

"Don't argue, Ichi."

"Fuck you, Grimm, I'll argue whenever I want."

Grimmjow felt a smile tilt his lips. Leave it to Ichigo to be ridiculously stubborn, but care about so many things and not even realize it.

"_So, how big is this piece of land Kenpachi owns?"_

_Grimmjow shrugged. "Dunno."_

"_But he said it's big enough so we can hunt on it."_

"_Uh huh."_

"_Wow."_

"_I know."_

"_Self-sustaining."_

"_Tell me about it."_

"_Well?"_

"_Let's go."_

_They trudged through the woods, attempting to be silent. Grimmjow, yes. Ichigo…not so much. He was growling and complaining by the time they'd gone a little more than three hundred paces._

"_Fuck this, how the hell are you staying so quiet?" he'd practically yelled._

"_Che, quit complaining, Ichi."_

"_No."_

_Grimmjow chuckled, pushing on and occasionally turning around to motion for Ichigo to silence his movements as best as he could, the orange haired man just sending him a vicious glare that had Grimmjow laughing._

"_You know what's missing from this picture?" Ichigo said suddenly._

"_What?"_

"_A dog."_

"_Yeah, I suppose so," Grimmjow murmured, body suddenly tensing. There was something else out there. He motioned for Ichigo to follow, silently weaving his way through the trees before he stopped. Carefully, he lifted his rifle, adjusting the scope and moving it towards the noise. It was slight, but he could hear it._

_A deer slipped out of the trees. Grimmjow smirked, lining the rifle up to take the deer down. Suddenly, Ichigo's hand stopped him, and he murmured a quiet, "Wait," before a small fawn hopped after its mother. Grimmjow sighed, watching as the buck followed, too._

_He glanced at Ichigo, and even though Grimmjow knew he couldn't see the deer as well since he wasn't looking through a scope, Ichigo was just staring, like he had never seen anything like it, like he'd never been given the opportunity._

_Grimmjow sighed and lowered his gun, shaking his head. Ichigo seemed to jolt out of his reverie, and a pink blush spread over his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck._

"_Sorry."_

"_I told you," Grimmjow smirked._

_Ichigo furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, then chuckled. "Yeah. Fluffy bunnies. Might as well make it fluffy deer now." Ichigo paused. "That…doesn't sound right."_

"_Nope."_

"_Shut up, asshole."_

"_Uh huh."_

"Well," Aizen interrupted, voice carrying from across the warehouse. "I'm so sorry, Grimmjow, but I'm afraid I can't let you go this time. You really have gotten better."

"So?" Grimmjow snarled, attention back on the man in front of him instead of the man behind him. Ichigo had tensed, too.

"You've gotten too good." A frown pulled down the edges of Aizen's mouth.

Grimmjow eyes widened, and he was only able to move a few inches as Aizen's hand blurred and a lone shot rang throughout the warehouse. Grimmjow clutched his left shoulder, the pain burning along the edges of his nerves. Blood pooled over his hand and trickled down his skin.

He staggered back a step, but didn't move anymore.

"Grimmjow? Grimmjow!" Ichigo screamed.

The blue haired man looked up, stomach dropping. Two men were rushing in, one of them hurrying towards Ichigo and trying to drag him away. He struggled, screaming Grimmjow's name and fighting the hold. It all sounded like it was underwater to Grimmjow, and the pain intensified as the butt of a gun smashed into his wounded shoulder.

A pained cry was wrenched from his chest as he dropped to one knee. He blinked. _No_. Aizen was winning. He couldn't win. He wasn't going to win. He couldn't win!

Get up. Get up, get up. _GET UP!_

With all the strength Grimmjow could muster he thrust his leg underneath himself, ignoring Ichigo's cries from somewhere behind him. It sounded slightly foreign anyway, like his ears were ringing. He swallowed, blinked, closed in on himself.

He was Sexta. He could do this. Grimmjow clenched his jaw and pressed his lips together, quickly snapping his right elbow back as best as he could. It smashed into the guard behind him, a small _snap_ echoing in his suddenly clear ears as the nose broke and blood gushed onto the guard's face.

Out of the corner of his eye, Grimmjow could see Aizen, frowning.

The man stepped forward. "You just won't die, will you…Grimmjow?" Hearing his name from Aizen's lips felt like snakes were slithering all over his body, but it wasn't Ichigo's fault Aizen now knew his name.

He'd be dead soon.

Aizen raised the gun again, muzzle pointed just between Grimmjow's eyes when a frustrated cry reached his ears. He turned, watching as Ichigo leaned forward then snapped back, smashing the back of his skull into the second guard's face. He scrabbled for the rifle Grimmjow had used, grasped it, and swung it up.

Ichigo didn't even wince at the sound it made, and he did it again, shoving the butt into the first guard's head and knocking him out. The orange haired man was panting, and his eyes were positively gleaming with fury.

Aizen hummed. "You won't use it, boy."

Grimmjow's eyes widened and he felt all the strength fall out of his legs as he pounded to the concrete, grunting when pain shot through every pore of his body, but the shot didn't make contact.

Suddenly, a gun locked, and Grimmjow glanced up. His breath hitched. "Ichi…"

"_Ne, Grimmjow?"_

"_Hmm?"_

"_Teach me how to shoot?"_

"…_What?"_

"_I want to learn how to shoot."_

_Was he hearing things? "No way in hell," he growled. That would just be asking for utter and complete disaster to befall them._

_Ichigo crossed his arms, eyes getting that determined look that just dared Grimmjow to try and argue. "We're living in the middle of nowhere, Grimm. I am _not_ going to go out not knowing how to shoot a fucking gun when I might need to protect myself. And I'm not going to be all pussy and run. Besides, they'll shoot me in the back."_

"_I don't want to teach you."_

"_Too fuckin' bad," Ichigo said forcefully. "You're going to."_

_Grimmjow gauged Ichigo's determination. Slowly, he stood, moving over to Ichigo and hovering over him, gaze completely serious. "But can you shoot them…Ichigo?" he asked quietly._

"_W-What?"_

"_You might know how to shoot a gun, but will you kill them?"_

_He seemed to hesitate. "I…"_

"_They can't find us, Ichi. If they come around then we have to shoot them to wound, then move them so they die somewhere far away. Can you do that?"_

_Ichigo swallowed, eyes moving in uncertainty. He licked his lips, and Grimmjow could almost see the thoughts swirling in Ichigo's brain. Suddenly, he snapped his head up, eyes getting that fierce look whenever he refused to back down and whenever he was fed up with Grimmjow taking too much time to please him before sex, but usually his eyes definitely had more lust._

_Just when Grimmjow had thought Ichigo was going to decline, he surprised him yet again, and Grimmjow couldn't help but feel thrilled. _That_ was the Ichigo he knew._

"_I can do it."_

_A smirk spread across Grimmjow's lips. "Good," he mumbled, leaning down and capturing Ichigo's lips, the small "mmph!" turning into a light moan. Grimmjow pulled away. "Well, then. Let's go."_

_Ichigo grumbled behind him as they walked out the front door, all of the quiet insults sent his way making Grimmjow laugh. Once they had reached Kenpachi's gun cabinet (again, the man had strangely impeccable taste, though since it was guns Grimmjow wasn't surprised), he pulled out an old 22 rifle._

_He crept up behind Ichigo, whispering into his ear. "Hold it here. That's it. Tight into your shoulder. Only squeeze the trigger; never tug. Watch the recoil. For the scope, you adjust it like this…"_

"_Oh, for fuck's sake, Grimm," Ichigo snarled. "Stop trying to turn me on."_

_Grimmjow leered. "Never gonna happen."_

Ichigo was panting, the sound loud in the echoing warehouse silence. He was standing over Grimmjow protectively, gun tucked tightly against his shoulder, left arm steady as a rock. Slowly, his breathing calmed, and Grimmjow could tell that every line of Ichigo's body was radiating fury.

Aizen was still frowning.

There were only a few times that Grimmjow had seen Ichigo like this. He had liked to fight at a dojo, and there, the world seemed to disappear and he had concentrated on fighting. He was analytical, and good at judging a person's moves.

But the difference was his eyes. Normally Ichigo's eyes were warm, inviting; even when he scowled they were sparkling whenever he looked at Grimmjow. But his eyes were as hard as dried amber, and his body bespoke of a calm that had come from years of fighting.

Grimmjow had never told Ichigo he'd seen that. Because he knew the difference. Ichigo had fought plenty of times – he had told Grimmjow of the gangs in secondary school that teased him because of his hair.

That was the thing, though. Ichigo fought to protect himself. He didn't fight to kill.

Sometimes that was better. Sometimes it was worse.

But seeing Ichigo standing over him sent a jolt of indignation to his pride, but he also felt his chest swell. _Ichigo_ was protecting _him_.

"You won't pull the trigger, boy," Aizen said calmly, settling his smile back on his face.

"Try me," Ichigo growled.

Aizen smiled again and chuckled. "You won't."

Ichigo grinned. "You sure?"

That infuriating smile faltered, and Aizen stepped forward again, but Grimmjow noticed the hand that held his gun twitch. The man was obviously unhappy with Ichigo's answer.

Suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped, and Ichigo's body was as still as a statue, arms steady, and Grimmjow knew the smile on Ichigo's face had disappeared. His lip curled, and he tucked the gun tighter.

"You shot at my boyfriend." Ichigo paused quietly. "You're gonna pay for that."

That was obviously not something Aizen liked because his hand blurred, pulling his gun up quickly and efficiently and pointing it at Ichigo.

Everything in Grimmjow's world stopped. His eyes widened, and it suddenly felt as if his entire universe was being ripped from him, and the ache in his chest was worse than all the pain of his wounds put together.

He pushed himself to his elbows with every fiber of his strength. "Ichigo!" he called, scream muffled as the gunshot vibrated through his ears and down his body until it was all he could hear and feel. He shook his head.

No…No…

"Ichi?"

* * *

**A/N:** Cliffhanger! Haha, don't ask me why I feel so mean. Anyway, from my first AN I'm pretty sure you guys know that I didn't publish this chapter the night after I wrote the second chapter. I had to edit this and I wanted to get reviews on the second chapter before I hurried on with the third.

Speaking of which. Seriously? How long will this rescue take? Ugh, I dunno, but I have to write a _fourth_ chapter now, because this chapter was already 16 pages. Yeesh, my imagination. But, I did have awesome muse for this chapter. Wrote it in one night with the help of one of my favorite movies _Shooter_. LOVE Mark Wahlberg. So sexy.

Well, hope everyone has a good night. I'm gonna get to bed so I can go attend a horse sale tomorrow for my upcoming Colt Training class in college, and then I'm gonna hit my friend's _awesome_ black light party and get _drunk_. See ya'll.

God I love college life.

- wolf's paradise


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Ah, so I'm back! Alas, here is the fourth (and final) installment of _Getting Away With Murder_. I must say, I fell in love with this story so much that I'd love to start it when they first met and everything, but I realize that I also absolutely love it just the way it is, and it is just perfect at the 4-chapter, short-story range. Besides, I have other stories where Ichigo and Grimmjow are badasses, so it's not altogether a bad thing!

Hope you guys like the final ( =( ) chapter! It is basically *cough cough* just uh…smut, so enjoy the wonderful GrimmIchi-ness of this installment =).

* * *

Getting Away With Murder 4

He could only stare, his mind running through so many scenarios and yet stuck on one thought: Ichigo had a rifle tucked neatly into his shoulder, Aizen still held the semi-automatic in his hand, and the remnants of the gunshot still echoed around the tall, bare walls. God, his heart was beating so hard.

"Ichi?"

_He sighed quietly, looking away before moving forward. "Kurosaki," he murmured, taking extra precaution to move slowly as he sat next to Ichigo._

_His orange hair glinted in the setting sun, the perspiration slicking down his face, eyes a brown whirlwind of emotions. He was sitting on that bank like he had so many times previously, but Grimmjow didn't like this foreboding._

_Ichigo's head snapped in his direction, voice sharp as a whiplash. "What, so I'm Kurosaki now?"_

_Grimmjow sighed, refusing to look at him. "Do you want me to keep calling you Ichigo… Ichigo?"_

_The orange haired man clenched his teeth, eyes looking hurt, confused. An anguished noise came from his mouth, but Grimmjow didn't dare comment on it. Sexta was telling him it wasn't safe, that he could make it worse. He pushed those instincts down. Sexta had no place in his life when Ichigo was there, but grudgingly, it was right. Ichigo was upset, and he couldn't let his usual gruffness out – not right now._

"_What do you want me to do, Ichigo?"_

_Ichigo viciously ripped out a handful of grass, but when he spoke his voice was quiet, and so confused it made Grimmjow's chest ache. "I don't know."_

_He wasn't sure how long they stayed silent, but he could feel the tension and uncertainty rolling off of Ichigo in waves, and it made him want to reach out and hold the orange haired man. So, against his instincts, Grimmjow did, and though Ichigo stiffened, he didn't move away._

_Grimmjow closed his eyes. He never realized he would ever feel something like this, but he had let Ichigo down. Ichigo had seen him – he had _seen_ him snuff the life out of a man with little more than a thought._

_And just thinking about Ichigo's reaction made it all worse._

"_Don't do this to me, Ichi," he whispered._

"_What?" It was just the breath of a sound, but Grimmjow heard it. Ichigo turned around in Grimmjow's arms, brown eyes wide. "Don't do what?"_

_How did he say such things? Grimmjow had never felt like this about anyone before, partly because he preferred not to know too many people since they could find out about Sexta, but mostly because Sexta _was_ such a dominating identity. Besides he didn't have good enough social skills to know what to say and how to say it – even if he had been working in a lumberyard for a while. Aizen liked to make sure the lessons he taught his operatives were deeply rooted in everything they did. Grimmjow's eyes just tightened, his mouth opening but no sound coming out._

_He tried. He tried to say something, but there was a lump in his throat._

"_Don't do what, Grimm?" Ichigo asked again, voice a bit firmer this time._

_So, he did the only thing he thought he could. He took Ichigo's hand, and placed it on his chest, over where his heart would be. "I don't know how to say this, but…" he rumbled, furtively glancing away. "You're…upset, and it…it hurts."_

_Ichigo sucked in a breath, staring at Grimmjow wide-eyed. After a moment, Grimmjow felt his old frustration rising in him. He didn't like the feeling one bit, so he let go of Ichigo's hand as if burned, turning his head away to hide the snarl in his throat._

_He was forced to turn back when Ichigo put both hands on either side of his face and turned his head so he had to look at him. The orange haired man's face was set in determination, eyes still confused, but no longer looking so lost._

_Grimmjow couldn't help himself. He shoved his chin up, hands simultaneously grasping the back of Ichigo's head and pulling him down until their lips met in a vicious kiss. Grimmjow was trying to convey his apologies to the man sitting in between his legs, but he needed to feel Ichigo, to know he was there._

_And Ichigo was kissing him back. One hand was fisted in his hair and the other was making dents in his shoulder as he flipped them over, Ichigo now lying on the grass and Grimmjow hovering over him. Suddenly, Ichigo's entire body stiffened, and he shoved hard on Grimmjow's chest._

_He pulled back, but he was stunned. Ichigo wiped his mouth, scooting back until he had enough room to stand. Grimmjow was still crouched, and he saw something set in Ichigo's eyes._

"_I'm giving you an ultimatum, Grimmjow," he said finally, voice firm. "It's either me or them, and if you choose them, don't _ever_ come see me again," he growled viciously._

_Ichigo stalked away, leaving Grimmjow there as he slowly stood._

_He was completely unprepared. It felt like he had lost everything he had ever cared about, and in a way, he had. Ichigo had become something precious to him. Where before he had just lived his life day to day, going to work at the lumbaryard to seek some form of normalcy that he longed for, now Ichigo had become what he lived for. Ichigo _was_ Grimmjow's normal, the one aspect of his life that let him live with the ever-growing set of morals that told him what he did was wrong._

_The sun had long since set by the time Grimmjow walked away from the river, but when he did, his shoulders were set. He didn't mind an ultimatum. It was Ichigo's right, but Ichigo was also the one thing he didn't want to let go of._

_He knew what he had to do._

"Ichi?" He wanted to hear his voice – _something_ – so badly, but the other part dreaded it, hoping that Ichigo wouldn't turn around and he'd see blood flowing out of his chest or his forehead…

Grimmjow's thoughts completely screeched to a halt as Ichigo's body slowly lost its tension. His breath hitched when Ichigo did turn to face him, but there was no blood. Just an ak47 clutched tightly in the man's fist. His eyes were still fierce, and he tried to smile, but it was tight, and Grimmjow just couldn't find his voice as he stared.

"I told you that I'd fight for you, too, didn't I?" Ichigo murmured.

Almost immediately, Grimmjow's eyes flicked to Aizen, and the brown haired man suddenly faltered. He fisted his shirt, looking down, eyes shocked. "It can't end like this…"

The rest of his statement gurgled away as the blood slowly slipped out of a new hole in the hollow of his throat. But when Aizen collapsed to the ground, both men gasped in shock.

Starrk stood behind the now fallen megalomaniac, gun smoking, mouth twisted into a frown.

"But I shot him… I know I did," Ichigo muttered.

Grey eyes suddenly flicked to Ichigo's, and Starrk took a few steps forward, passing Aizen's body without a glance and keeping his gaze locked on Ichigo. The way he was staring made the hairs on Grimmjow's neck rise. He'd forgotten how intimidating Starrk could be. The man didn't even look down when he spoke.

"That's some boyfriend you got there, Grimmjow," Starrk said quietly. "Ulquiorra made a good choice."

Finally, it seemed as if Grimmjow could speak. "I didn't want to…" If he hadn't needed to shoot his comrade, he wouldn't have. But in this sort of business, you had to make it look good, even if it meant – in this case – killing a friend so that their efforts to help didn't go to waste.

"You shot him," Ichigo said, eyebrows scrunching in confusion as he looked at Starrk.

Starrk nodded. "Yes, but you shot him, too."

"I…I did?"

Then, just the smallest hint of a smirk tugged at Starrk's lips. "Right in the chest." He glanced down at Grimmjow. "Think you can get up?"

Reality seemed to hit his shoulders with a resounding _crash_, and Grimmjow shook his head, cradling his sore arm but nodding anyway. He had gotten up before – he could get up again.

It was slow work, and he glanced up at Ichigo. Those brown eyes were wide, but though they were pointed at Grimmjow, Ichigo wasn't seeing him. His mind seemed to be somewhere far far away. Grimmjow snapped his fingers, managing not to wince as he put weight on a particularly sore spot.

"Oi. You there?"

Ichigo jumped slightly. "Grimm!" He made a small noise in the back of his throat as he looked over his shoulder at Aizen. He swallowed thickly and turned back to Grimmjow, and the blue haired man couldn't quite decipher the look on Ichigo's face. "I…I actually killed someone, Grimm."

His eyes tightened. Ichigo shouldn't have had to go through that. Grimmjow hadn't wanted Ichigo to ever have to face it, but he tilted his head, slightly confused when the furrow in Ichigo's brow smoothed and the corner of his mouth quirked. His head whipped up as his eyes connected with Grimmjow's, and somehow, they softened and became determined at the same time.

"I'd do it again, Grimm."

A small sound of surprise wretched from Grimmjow's throat. For the life of him, he didn't understand _why_ Ichigo would want to go through killing someone again, because even though Ichigo wasn't feeling it right now, he would later.

"Why?"

This time, a full-blown smile lit Ichigo's face. "I told you I'd fight for you, didn't I?" he repeated.

"Ichi…"

Starrk's loud sigh echoed in the silent warehouse. "Not to ruin the moment, but can I have Lilynette back, Grimmjow?"

It took a moment for Starrk's request to register through his brain, but once it did, it was like the entire atmosphere of the warehouse lightened, and he chuckled. Starrk had named his semi-automatic Lilynette, and while the name had no significance, it was still funny. While Grimmjow didn't quite know why Starrk had done it, he understood.

He leaned down, slowly picked up the gun from the cement floor, careful of his sore shoulder. Starrk's hand reached out, eyes a storm as Grimmjow plopped the gun into the taller man's grasp.

This time, Starrk looked less intimidating as he met Grimmjow's eyes, giving a sort of silent salute with the barest nod of his head before turning and walking away. He wasn't too far when he slowly turned around, grey eyes knowing.

"He's a good one, Grimmjow. Don't let him go."

That stunned him. And Ichigo, too, if the shocked and slightly flushed look on his face was anything to judge. Starrk had turned away again only to wave over his shoulder.

"Exit's all clear."

Grimmjow and Ichigo just stared after the man, stunned. Starrk disappeared through the same door through which he must have come – a side entrance that Grimmjow had never known about. It had to be the same one that Aizen had used, too, because Grimmjow had sworn Aizen hadn't entered through the same door he had.

But when Starrk disappeared and the silence in the warehouse became stifling, Grimmjow suddenly smiled. It wasn't a smirk like the ones that he'd given Ichigo so many times. This was a true smile, because he had just realized that he was free.

He didn't have to worry about them coming after him and Ichigo again. He didn't have to worry about possibly dragging Ichigo into something that might harm him. He didn't have to constantly watch his back, afraid that someone would try to end his life or con him into coming back.

He was truly free.

First, it started as a chuckle before a full-blown laugh was shaking Grimmjow's chest, and though it hurt, he felt as if he had no pain in the world. He and Ichigo were free!

_They were free_.

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo cried, hands flying to the man's shoulders as he tried at the same time to keep from hurting him. "Grimm?"

Suddenly, it was too much, and Grimmjow fell to one knee, gasping for air as his eyes screwed shut in pain. He probably shouldn't have done that, but he couldn't help it. Everything felt so unreal and disjointed, yet at the same time he was realizing the truth of the situation. It just still had to sink in.

"We're free, Ichi," he murmured, eyes still closed tightly. "We're free," he breathed, and for the first time in his life, Grimmjow realized just how much pressure and expectation had been put onto his shoulders, and how much he had brought on himself trying to make sure that neither he nor Ichigo was discovered.

His life had been a mess of fighting and taking lives and finding something that made it all bearable, and somehow, everything had turned out all right. It wasn't too much of a reality at the moment – it was still so fresh and new and mind-blowing – but he knew he would think about it later.

Right now, they had to leave, and he knew that Ichigo was worried about him. But of course, first things first.

Ichigo was leaning close, brown eyes swirling with confusion and apprehension as Grimmjow finally opened his. He reached forward, ignoring the pain and grabbing Ichigo's face in his hands. The orange haired man made a sound of surprise, but Grimmjow pulled him closer, quietly sealing the other's lips with his.

The reaction was immediate. Ichigo clung to him, fists bunching in Grimmjow's shirt as his mouth opened and he pushed against Grimmjow harder. The blue haired man groaned, new fire spreading throughout his body as he felt Ichigo against him because he'd never have to worry about all of this again.

Before, he had let the other man lead the kiss when he'd found him in the warehouse, but not now. It was sudden and unexpected, but Grimmjow needed to show the orange haired man just who he belonged to.

So Grimmjow shoved Ichigo's tongue back into his mouth and pushed his own into the hot cavern, mapping it out thoroughly and aggressively. A small whimper slipped out of Ichigo's lips and he practically melted against the bigger man.

Their kiss became heated, bodies suddenly forcefully pushing together, Ichigo's hands furiously rubbing everywhere over Grimmjow's shirt as Grimmjow's hands did the same.

He wasn't sure who pulled away first, but when they did, they were panting, and the only thing that kept Grimmjow from taking Ichigo right there in the warehouse was the fact that he'd managed to get blood all over the orange haired man's face, and blood on Ichigo… It just looked _wrong_.

"We need to leave," he said hoarsely.

Ichigo just managed a nod before silently helping Grimmjow up. He had the sudden urge to get out of a place so corrupted by a man he hated, and it seemed as if Ichigo agreed, even if he kept glancing at Grimmjow, the looks full of lust and want.

But once they passed through the large door and saw the carnage that awaited them, those looks vanished, and Ichigo's face paled.

"Grimm…"

"Don't look, Ichigo," Grimmjow growled through clenched teeth. It all reminded him too much of the time Ichigo realized who he really was. "Just don't think about it."

It didn't bother _him_, but he knew it bothered Ichigo, and he really wished the man didn't have to see this. Even still, it had all been to protect Ichigo, and Grimmjow didn't regret it. He'd do it again in a heartbeat, and somehow, he knew that Ichigo wouldn't object.

Even still, as best as he could, he tried to steer Ichigo away from it.

00000

Somehow, when they stepped out of the complex, they hadn't met an opposing soul and Starrk was standing there, hands in his pockets. He hadn't explained anything, only said they'd talk later as he called one of his special drivers to pick them up and take them to Kenpachi's lumberyard. From there, they had walked to the large man's cabin, both of them tired – Grimmjow from his wounds and blood loss and Ichigo from having to support the man.

It took a grand total of two hours of disinfectant and gauze and tape and Band-Aids for Ichigo to finally be convinced that Grimmjow was okay. Now they were sitting on the bed, Ichigo putting all the soiled bandages into a bag. He dropped it on the floor, eyes distant from concentration when Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo's wrist.

Startled, the orange haired man looked up. "Grimm?" he asked uncertainly.

"So stupid," Grimmjow growled, attacking Ichigo's mouth with as much force as he possessed. Ichigo responded immediately, mouth opening and letting Grimmjow's tongue slide in to map the whole of his mouth.

Ichigo's hands were cupping Grimmjow's face as he nodded. "Uh huh. You're stupid, too," he managed to mumble in between kisses, trying to press his body as close as he could to Grimmjow.

"Why?" His hands moved, one tugging and winding in Ichigo's hair while the other slid down his over his back and down his side before resting on a hip, his thumb creating wicked circles of pleasure over that particularly sensitive spot just above his lover's hip bone.

"Of course I'd fight for you," Ichigo murmured, tugging Grimmjow's face closer and plunging his tongue inside the bigger man's mouth and making him groan. God, it turned him on so much when Ichigo decided to try to take control.

"He could've done something to you," Grimmjow said softly.

"But he didn't."

"You could've gotten killed."

"But I didn't."

Grimmjow growled, shoving Ichigo onto the bed. The orange haired man let out a sound of surprise, eyes widening when Grimmjow scooted up until he was hovering closely over Ichigo's face.

"Why don't you care?" he snarled, Ichigo looking shocked at the change in Grimmjow's attitude. But he didn't care. How could Ichigo just brush it off as if it didn't matter that he _could've_ been killed? Of course, Grimmjow knew he _wasn't_ hurt, but that moment was still fresh in his mind, the endlessly long seconds that had ticked by and he wasn't sure if Ichigo had been shot or…

He didn't want to lose Ichigo. Not again. He'd already lost him once, and it had torn him apart, and at that time Ichigo hadn't even been in danger of dying. But if he were to be stolen away from him forever…

Then what would Grimmjow do?

It wasn't as if he was clingy, because Grimmjow didn't like that someone couldn't live for themselves, but he was with Ichigo not because he was someone that the blue haired man could live _with_. It was because Ichigo was the one thing that he couldn't live _without_.

"What do you mean?" Ichigo asked breathlessly.

Grimmjow's lips curled. "Why don't you care that you could've died?"

The orange haired man opened and closed his mouth, but seemed at a loss for words. "I… Grimm, I…_had_ to protect you…" He shook his head as if he couldn't get anything else out, but his eyes were sincere, pleading with Grimmjow to understand. "I didn't know what else to do, but…I had to do _something_. You know I'll fight for you – die for you even."

The blue haired man had looked away as Ichigo spoke, but now his eyes snapped back, furious. "Don't talk like that," he almost shouted. "Don't you dare talk about dying for me."

"Why not? Grimmjow, I would—"

"No!"

Ichigo blinked in surprise, eyebrows rising before Grimmjow forced himself to look away. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the frown turn down Ichigo's mouth, and those always soft, always gentle, always loving hands grabbed his face and forced him to look at the man lying underneath him.

He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to think that someday Ichigo might die because of him, and it had almost happened just recently…

"Grimmjow…_why_ are you being so crazy about this?"

There was no way he was answering. So he shook his head, eyes closing in silent stubbornness.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo growled.

His teeth clenched, his fists tightened, and he fought against the sudden urge to spill, because somehow, whenever Ichigo used that tone with him, he was completely unable to resist answering. And it was the same this time.

So, he let his head fall slowly to Ichigo's shoulder. "What would I do without you?"

It was barely a whisper, but Ichigo heard because he gasped, his body rigid for a few excruciating seconds before he shoved Grimmjow away, latching onto the blue haired man's mouth as if he wouldn't get to taste him again. His mouth crushed Grimmjow's like he was trying to fuse himself to the man on top of him, and Grimmjow's mind was whirling.

"Ichi…"

"Never," Ichigo said breathlessly. "Never. We're out of danger. No more threat. God, Grimmjow, I…I never knew," he muttered shakily in between kisses.

The blue haired man pulled away, staring at Ichigo. "I've told you I love you."

A small smile lit Ichigo's lips. "Yeah, but I thought I was the only one that thought I couldn't live without you."

Grimmjow snorted.

"I'm sorry," Ichigo continued, taking Grimmjow's face in his hands again and pecking him with kisses. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Shut up," Grimmjow muttered, catching hold of Ichigo's mouth and holding him there. In seconds their clothes were gone, left forgotten on the floor, and he leaned forward so Ichigo fell onto the mattress again. Not a moment later, Ichigo wrapped his long legs around Grimmjow's waist, and the blue haired man took the opportunity to roll them over so Ichigo was on top.

He knew the orange haired man liked any position, really, but he also knew the difference. Grimmjow liked being on top most days, because half of the pleasure was watching Ichigo writhe and pant and beg underneath him, showing him just how much he liked being dominated and how submissive he could be.

But Grimmjow also knew that secretly, he _loved_ Ichigo on top. The man's brown eyes would darken, and the mere thought of power brought a stunning confidence to Ichigo that had Grimmjow mesmerized by the way his partner would throw his head back, wild with the sensations of being filled over and over again.

And that was something he would never tire of, that he could watch over and over and over again and get turned on by the mere thought of his uptight, scowling lover completely coming loose from the pleasure coiling inside of him.

Ichigo still had his mouth occupied, Grimmjow silently pouring some lube onto his fingers while he managed to run a hand over the other man's body. Quickly, he moved from the kiss to latch onto that sensitive spot on Ichigo's neck, causing the smaller man to groan loudly.

Carefully, making sure to distract Ichigo, Grimmjow swirled a finger around Ichigo's entrance, feeling him shiver as a breathy moan escaped his lips when he realized just what was going on. He was panting loudly as Grimmjow continued making the bruise on his neck and teasing, wanting to see just how far he could push Ichigo.

"Grimm," Ichigo whispered, body tightening and hands gripping his shoulders with crushing force as he moaned heavily, hips twitching in a silent plea for Grimmjow to move more.

So he did, slowly pushing his finger in, cock throbbing with need and desire as Ichigo let out the most delicious of sounds. The orange haired man shoved his hips back, driving Grimmjow's finger deeper, a desperate sound of need echoing around the room.

The blue haired man breathed heavily, trying to hold out, dying to be inside Ichigo because it had been too long since he had had him. Much too long, and he needed to remind Ichigo just who belonged to. So he shoved in another finger, clamping down on his restraint as Ichigo cried out again.

"Now, Grimm. Oh, now, please." Ichigo's back arched and he hissed, nails digging into Grimmjow's shoulder.

But he had to tease him. "What do you want?" he asked, hooking a finger to the left and tapping. Ichigo let out a cry, body jerking in pleasure. "Tell me, Ichi."

"Son of a bitch," Ichigo panted, no doubt trying to sound vicious, but not quite managing to do so.

Grimmjow smirked, slowly pulling his fingers out only to shove them back in quickly. Ichigo's response pulled at his restraint, testing it, pushing it to the limit, and Grimmjow knew that if Ichigo didn't break soon, he would first.

"Tell me, Ichi," he repeated, bucking his hips up and managing to press his erection against Ichigo's for a second. Just the friction had his dick throbbing mercilessly, and Ichigo groaned, pushing back on Grimmjow's fingers.

"Mmmm," was all Ichigo seemed to manage as he ground down, the friction now downright unbearable.

"Fuck," he growled, pulling his fingers out and quickly lubing his dick as Ichigo let out a quiet whimper of loss. Before the other man knew it, Grimmjow was lifting Ichigo's hips up, barely keeping sane enough to tease Ichigo's hole with the tip of his cock, letting the sounds send blood straight to his nether regions before he pushed inside.

Without preamble, Ichigo placed his hands over Grimmjow's as he shoved himself down, throwing his head back as both of them let out a sound of pleasure. Grimmjow kept groaning, still feeling Ichigo adjust as he clenched sporadically around him.

Now this was what Grimmjow missed.

Grimmjow only let Ichigo adjust for a moment before pulling out and spearing back in, his body protesting that he had been without Ichigo for much too long. And he agreed. All the worry and stress and hell they had gone through was being taken out on every thrust they made together, Ichigo's constant sounds of pleasure and Grimmjow's repeating of Ichigo's name filling the room and accompanying the rocking of the bed.

He watched, practically enthralled as Ichigo came undone in his very arms, still marveling at the orange haired man riding him, face twisted with utmost pleasure, dick bobbing from their constant movement. It was full and heavy, begging to be touched, so Grimmjow did, eyes practically rolling in the back of his head as he watched Ichigo shiver and shove his hips down faster.

They were getting close, and he knew it, the sensations almost too much to bear as Ichigo moved around him. Suddenly, the orange haired man looked down, brown eyes practically black with lust, and Grimmjow felt his gut coil.

Ichigo leaned down to capture Grimmjow's lips, moaning loudly into his mouth as it changed the angle. Grimmjow snapped his hips up. He was close, and so was Ichigo. Pre-cum was coating Ichigo's length as Grimmjow continued to stroke it.

"I love you, Grimm," Ichigo whispered. "Always."

He really wasn't expecting that, and he groaned, the pleasure too tight. So he thrust deeply one more time, slamming against Ichigo's prostrate and causing the man's hips to go wild with his release, jerking and moving as semen shot out over their stomachs and on Grimmjow's hand.

Not a second later Grimmjow followed, letting Ichigo's clenching muscles milk his orgasm from him. Ichigo was still shivering, and Grimmjow bucked his hips a few times, wanting to make sure he released as deeply as he could into the man on top of him so he would be marked forever as his.

Ichigo moaned lowly, tightening his muscles again in response as Grimmjow's orgasm finished.

Both of them were panting, sweat a thin sheet cooling over their bodies. Grimmjow was still buried inside of Ichigo, feeling a few bits of cum seeping out of Ichigo's entrance and slipping down his thighs, but neither of them moved.

The sun was just setting, streaking through the window and casting them in golden light, making Ichigo's hair shine even more brightly. Grimmjow chuckled breathlessly, and it seemed as if that was the catalyst. Both of them started laughing, Grimmjow feeling undeniably light.

They were free. They never had to worry about Aizen again.

Ichigo leaned back, shifting a little, eyes fluttering when he still felt Grimmjow inside of him, and the blue haired man felt a spark ignite in his gut all over again. And then, Ichigo smiled – not a smirk or a scowl or a tiny smile. This was a full-blown smile, splitting his face from ear to ear, and it put the sun to shame.

"We're free, Grimm," he said, and there was a lightness to his voice that hadn't been there in a long time – not since they had first run away.

"Yeah, Ichi." And he smiled, too, reaching up to gently touch Ichigo's cheek. The orange haired man sighed and leaned into the hand, eyes closing contentedly. But when Ichigo spoke next, his voice was a little choked, but no less relieved.

"We're gonna be okay."

Grimmjow ran his thumb over Ichigo's bottom lip, causing the man to slowly open his eyes. "Yeah," he murmured quietly, smiling at Ichigo and watching the sun cast various shades of orange and gold and yellow over his lover's face.

"We are."

* * *

**A/N:** Whew! Even I think that sex scene was all kinds of hot lol! And I had to make it end sweet and all cause they deserve it. Hope it wasn't too corny, and I hope you guys like the last chapter! That was like…6 pages of foreplay/sex lol. Personally, I like it, and I hope everything was all right. Sorry if it seems kinda disjointed in the beginning; it's supposed to be that way since Grimmjow's brain is running amuck with terrible ideas and shooting from one thought to another as he hopes Ichigo is okay. Thanks everyone for sticking with this story and reviewing and reading it! I love you guys =).

- wolf's paradise

**NOTICE:** Make sure to vote for my poll guys! I wanna know what you think! And if you wanna watch a good vid, look up **Ichigo/Hollow Ichigo – Faceless** on youtube. It's by **chakrabender46**, and I love it since I made it myself! Hope you guys check it out and enjoy it! Also, check out my new video **IchiRuki vs GrimmIchi – Diary of Jane**!


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